


Lights in the Darkness

by Raelly



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Angst, Blood and Injury, Canonical Character Death, Emotional Baggage, Established Relationship, F/M, Final Fantasy XIV: Heavensward Spoilers, Final Fantasy XIV: Shadowbringers Spoilers, Final Fantasy XIV: Stormblood Spoilers, Fluff and Humor, Friends to Lovers, Highlander Hyur Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Hurt/Comfort, Hyur Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Just Friends, Love Confessions, Major Character Injury, Mutual Pining, Nightmares, Patch 2.0: A Realm Reborn Spoilers, Pining, Pre-Relationship, Sickfic, Worldbuilding, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-29
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:06:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 21
Words: 55,931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21607090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raelly/pseuds/Raelly
Summary: A collection of one-shots and drabbles, mostly Thancred/WoL, both covering canon moments and things in-between.
Relationships: Ryne | Minfilia & Warrior of Light, Warrior of Light & Thancred Waters, Warrior of Light/Thancred Waters
Comments: 55
Kudos: 139





	1. In Crimson it Began (Stormblood, part 1)

**Author's Note:**

> Well, I faceplanted into this game some months ago and wrote here and there as I played. Since I'm now caught up, I figured I'd just post things here so I will stop poking at them. Will probably jump back and forth between time-periods, I'm just writing these for fun and not as a 'dedicated' retelling of my time in the game, so things will probably get out of order. I'm just starting with these three Stormblood ones, since they're the ones I've edited.
> 
> Warning for this chapter, I guess: This is a exaggeration of the outcome of the fight against Zenos. There's some brief descriptions of injuries, and references to character deaths. It was essentially me going 'hey, let's use the Zenos fight as a headcanon excuse for the shift from Warrior to Gunbreaker', and then deciding to be terrible and write it from Alphinaud's point of view.

Death was a part of conflict. Big or small, when swords were drawn and magic summoned, it was very likely not everyone would walk away.

And clever words were not always a way to avoid it.

That was one of the hard lessons Alphinaud had learned since he arrived to Eorzea.

The smoke made his eyes burn, yet he kept his focus on Viana and Pipin as they led the way into the Garlean forces, forcing the imperial soldiers to turn their attentions away from the captured and overwhelmed rebel soldiers and leaving them open to Alisaie’s quick attacks.

The coppery smell of blood hung thick in the air.

As did the battle cries of the Skull’s leader as she furiously met Viana, then Pipin, then Alisaie’s onslaughts as her subordinates fell around her one by one.

There was no time delay.

The dread clawed in his chest when he followed Krile and, per her instructions, rushed to Conrad’s side, trying not to think about the bloom of red that was staining the front of Y’shtola’s unmoving form. Krile was on it. He had to take care of Conrad. The surge of aether felt cool and refreshing as it flowed through his body, pouring into the elderly rebel leader before him, and the sound of battle was pushed into the back of his mind.

But when there was a sudden stop to the sound of metal hitting metal, he glanced up, hoping to find the others standing victorious over Fordola. Instead, he felt like someone had punched him in the gut as he took in the sight of Zenos yae Galvus’s hulking form.

The worry rising up in him…

For his friends.

Viana’s furious roar mixed with Pipin’s cry of “for the Flames!” as they launched themselves at their opponent.

His sister.

In his periphery, he saw the bright form of her aetheric blade as she joined the fray.

The fear nearly made him choke on the air.

A sudden shockwave of air made the sands around Alphinaud stir and ruffled his hair. Were they..?

_“You fret like a worried maid, boy.”_

No, concentrate on Conrad.

The sound of battle resumed and after a moment, when he was certain he’d done all he could for Conrad, he dared to look once more towards the still raging battle.

He wasn’t sure what terrified him the most about the sight. That Alisaie and Pipin were nowhere to be seen, or that Viana was so clearly outclassed, spending more time avoiding Zenos’ attacks than landing any blows herself, and what hits she did get in, he seemed to just shrug off.

Or the fact that it was so blatantly clear that he was just toying with her, his parries and dodges almost lazy by the comparison of her focused, furious attacks.

Zenos could end this at any moment, and they’d all be done for.

Thunder rumbled above, the air thick with tension, as if the heavens themselves were holding their breath in anticipation of the outcome of this battle.

A sudden bright light blinded him and when he looked back, Viana was picking herself up off the ground, her face set in a defiant grimace. A wide streak of blood ran down the side of her face, her hand clutching her ribs. Cold dread filled him when he realised she was completely disarmed.

It was over.

Zenos raised his blade, poised for attack.

_No._

Before his eyes, Alphinaud saw the deceptively serene look on Haurchefant’s face as they carried his lifeless body out from the Vault.

_Not her too._

The vision of Ysayle’s peaceful smile as her spirit lent her strength to his to wrench free the Eye of Nidhogg.

_Not like this._

Minfilia, surrounded in a halo of light, as she gave them each a final, heartfelt smile before gathering the souls of the Warriors of Darkness around her and departing for their world with them.

_Not now._

Papalymo’s calm determination, contrasted against the chaos of the primal looming ahead, as he told them all to get to safety.

_Please._

The proud, gentle look in his grandfather’s eyes as he said his final farewells to him and Alisaie.

Zenos surged forward, the flash of his blade too quick to see.

It happened so fast.

The next thing he knew Viana crumpled to her knees, teetering there for a breathless moment before she fell onto her side, a cloud of dust rising around her unmoving body. Vaguely, he was aware of Lyse shouting curses and threats from behind him, but the sound was muted, as if he was underwater.

_Move, please move._

Then the blade of Zenos’ sword shattered. And just like that, the Crownprince of the Garlean Empire, Viceroy of Ala Mhigo and Doma, seemed to have lost all interest in them.

A deathly still settled over the area as he turned and simply walked away.

Alphinaud’s mind raced with questions. Why didn’t he finish them all off? Why pull back now?

Just as the imperial soldiers filed out from the area, another group of soldiers broke through the smoke from the opposite direction. The relief of seeing general Aldynn’s distinct silhouette lead the charge, followed by more alliance forces, wormed its way through the stunned shock in Alphinaud’s mind. Suddenly the sounds and smells around him came rushing back into full force, like someone had slapped him across the face.

“Oh, Thaliak, no,“ he whispered and scrambled to his feet, taking off in a run. As he got up, he saw Alisaie and Pipin struggle back to their feet to meet the concerned questions of the grand company soldiers that’d rushed to their side. Alisaie met his eyes and gave him a resolute nod.

He returned it, relieved to see her unharmed, and focused instead his attention on where Raubahn had knelt in the sand next to Viana. As he ran over to them, he saw the shattered remains of her axe lying in the sand. Twelve above, that didn’t help put his mind at ease at all. “Is she alive?” he called out as he got close. 

Raubahn didn’t answer him. He was leaned over Viana, evidently saying something to her before turning his head to yell for the healers to be brought in.

Aether was already gathering at his fingertips as he slid to his knees beside her. The sheer severity of the moment shut out all horror he realistically should have felt at the sight before him.

The last blow from Zenos had bit clean through her armour, the jagged edges of metal, leather and cloth framing the bright red wound that cut diagonally across her torso. Blood stained her lips as she laboured for breath, her eyes rolling as she seemed to drift in and out of awareness. Raubahn had placed his large hand on her forehead, as much to reassure as to keep her from moving.

“Hold on, my friend,” Alphinaud choked out, and without pausing to consider what the survival chances were from these wounds, he closed his eyes and focused his entire being on stabilising her condition. There wasn’t much he could do to injuries this severe, he knew – he wasn’t Y’shtola or Krile - but he just had to keep her away from the brink of death until the conjurers arrived.

He wasn’t sure for how long he stayed like that, feeding aether through her body to keep her blood from seeping out into the sand below her, or her lungs from being filled with it, or any of the other ways her organs might suddenly fail. It felt like hours, but was probably minutes. Whatever happened around him were just muffled sounds. It didn’t matter right then.

It was Alisaie’s voice that finally broke his concentration, along with her hands gently pulling him back by the shoulders. Alphinaud snapped his eyes open to see, instead of Raubahn, a Twin Adders conjurer kneeling opposite of him. She was already channelling her own spell and, when their eyes met, she gave him a reassuring smile and a nod.

With a strangled sob, he let go of his spell and slumped back against Alisaie, his eyes remaining fixed on the other conjurer as she instantly took over. Someone else wearing the Immortal Flame’s colours knelt beside him, and instantly set to cutting the leather straps that held Viana’s amour while their colleague worked, carelessly tossing the bits of metal to the side.

“Come on brother, let’s give them some room.”

Alphinaud nodded numbly and let her help him back to his feet. Despite her calm tone, the vicelike grip she kept on his arm as they watched the conjurer work betrayed her own worries. It seemed like Viana had lost consciousness while he’d been focused on his own spell.

Gods, she looked so pale.

Memories of the days he’d spent by Estinien’s bedside came flooding back to him, along with the same surreal feeling of seeing someone he cared for and looked up to, whose will to live in the face of their foes seemed so unbreakable, instead still and motionless.

Two Maelstrom soldiers arrived with a stretcher and helped their comrade from the Flames move Viana over to it as quickly as they could without disturbing the spellcasting.

A large, heavy hand settled on his shoulder in a comforting gesture.

“You two should get some rest as well,” Raubahn spoke, his voice a rough with concern.

“I’m going with her and Y’shtola.” Alisaie didn’t wait for either of them to say anything before she moved to walk beside the stretcher as they made their away towards the infirmary. A little bit ahead, Alphinaud could make out Lyse helping to carry one that had Y’shtola on it. Krile was nowhere in sight. Maybe she’d moved ahead to prepare for the incoming wounded.

By the Twelve, how did it come to this?

“If there’s nothing else you’d have me do, general Aldynn, I’ll see if they have of any use of me at the infirmary.” With Y’shtola down and so many wounded to see to, Krile and the other healers would need all the help they could get.

Raubahn studied him for a moment, and then nodded. “Of course lad. I will let you know if anything changes out here.”

“You have my thanks,” Alphinaud replied with a bow of his head, then hurried after his sister and friends. Vaguely, he thought that he should send a message to Tataru, Urianger and Thancred.

It was many hours later that someone, probably Alisaie, pushed him down into a chair in a corner of the infirmary and told him to get some rest. Vaguely, he was aware of the last thing he saw before sleep claimed him were Krile and someone else still hovering over the beds where Y’shtola and Viana lay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> English is my secondary language, so you're more than welcome to point out any mistakes or any other issues you may have spotted. Obviously I'm new to the fandom, so I'm still learning a lot of the lore.


	2. And in Crimson it was Tempered (Stormblood, Part 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “And as for my gear…” Viana’s expression turned a bit sour as she regarded the mangled, blood-spattered remains of her armour, and the extensive bits and pieces missing from the head of her axe. “I doubt it can be repaired by the time we’re leaving for Doma, and I don’t have the time to get fitted for another set.”
> 
> Which really only left her with one option.
> 
> “Do you know where they put my linkpearl?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Continuation of the last chapter. Some WoL/Thancred pining in this one.

_Pathetic._

The word was seared into in her mind, like the jagged wound that ran across her chest.

Frowning, she ran her fingers over the cut in her breastplate. The memories of her fight against Zenos were a jumble of rage, blood and burning pain. Gods, so much pain.

But she remembered that single word and the cold, bored look in his eyes as he so infuriatingly leisurely deflected her blows. He’d fought her to the point of where exhaustion had crept into her limbs, and yet he had himself never seemed as much as winded.

An unpleasant, choking feeling rose up in her throat as she thought of those cold eyes again. She wasn’t dumb, she’d known she was outmatched the moment they began fighting him. That she could die any given day was something she had made peace with long before she’d met Y’shtola in La Noscea and found herself set on a path that’d lead to fighting primals, ancient magitek constructs, dragons and immortal beings of darkness that seemed to linger behind every plight in the world.

And yet, seeing the long gash in her armour was a stark reminder of her own mortality. If it hadn’t been for her armour, she’d surely be in just as bad of a state as Y’shtola. Or worse. Absentmindedly, she brushed her fingers against her sternum, feeling the bumps of the bandages under the thin fabric of her shirt. In the two days since she’d woken up, having been out of it for a week, the pain had been a constant, mulling reminder of her own failure. 

“Ah, I see you found your stuff…”

Viana looked up at Lyse standing at the edge of the makeshift cloth-wall separating her ‘room’ from the rest of the infirmary at Rhalgr’s Reach.

“Yes, M’naago retrieved it for me.” Viana set the breastplate down on top of her bed with the rest of the ruined remains of her weapon and armour. “Figured that if I’m so beaten up, I’d best assess the damage before we head out to Limsa on the morrow.”

It was a weak jest, one that Lyse didn’t seem to notice. She had an uncomfortable look on her face as her blue eyes looked down at the items. “And what’s the verdict?”

Viana paused for a moment, considering her words as she regarded her friend’s demeanour. “A shattered blade can still be reforged,” she replied with as gentle conviction as she could. “And it can be made stronger in the process.”

Lyse looked up, and a small smile tugged at her lips. “The same for an axe, right?”

At that, Viana chuckled but it was instantly cut short at the pangs of pain that shot through her body. “Ow, need to not do that…” Carefully, she sat down on an empty spot on the bed, grimacing through the pain.

“Should I get Krile?”

Viana shook her head as she settled back against the wall. “Let’s not risk her holding me here for another week, shall we? Not when Tataru apparently have found us a ship to Doma.” At the hesitant look on her friend’s face, she mustered a smile. “I’m fine, Lyse, really.”

Seemingly convinced, Lyse relaxed again and managed a slightly hesitant smile.

“And as for my gear…” Viana’s expression turned a bit sour as she regarded the mangled, blood-spattered remains of her armour, and the extensive bits and pieces missing from the head of her axe. “I doubt it can be repaired by the time we’re leaving for Doma, and I don’t have the time to get fitted for another set.”

Which really only left her with one option.

“Do you know where they put my linkpearl?”

\----

Thancred frowned down at the reports from their agents on the recent movements of the various beastmen tribes. The last thing they needed now was one of them summoning a primal, not when Arenvald was preoccupied in Ala Mhigo and Viana was set for Doma. Flipping through the papers, he got to another set related to the movements of the imperial forces.

He’d intended to leave parts of the coordination efforts of their agents to Riol in favour travelling down to Ala Mhigo himself to join Krile in aiding general Aldynn and the resistance in their efforts to hold the line until the others returned. With Viana, Lyse, the twins, plus Tataru, away, and Y’shtola out of commission, they all needed to pull double-duty. Thankfully the rest of the Scions shared the sentiment, and everyone had so far started pitching in to cover Tataru and Alphinaud’s usual tasks, and to make up for Viana’s noticeable absence on the field.

While skimming through the reports on the imperials, he picked out a few bits that would be worthwhile to pass on to Raubahn.

But barely had he put his quill to paper to summarise them, before he was interrupted by the gentle chime of his linkpearl buzzing to life.

“Not interrupting something, am I?”

A tension he hadn’t really realised had been there made his shoulders sag in relief at the sound of Viana’s voice. “Not at all,” he replied as he leaned back in his chair with a small smile. It felt good to hear her, to know she truly was alive. “Is something wrong?”

“Ah, straight to business? And here maybe I was just missing you.”

Thancred chuckled and shook his head at the familiar, teasing tone. “The thought warms my heart,” he mused in response. Then he felt his mood turn a bit more sombre as he stared blankly at the papers in front of him. “How are you doing? Tataru was a bit sparse on the details, but it sounded bad.”

There was a brief pause. “Y’shtola is still unconscious. I think my pride took the worst beating, all things considered. Well, my pride and my gear, as things are.”

Even through the linkpearl, he could make out the pained, clipped tone to her voice. There was a small tug of regret in his chest that he couldn’t check in on her and Y’shtola in person right away, but he’d be of no use hovering by their sickbeds anyhow.

“Which is why I’m contacting you.”

“I’m not a blacksmith, but I’ll do what I can,” he replied.

“No need for any extracurricular skills, I just need you to retrieve something from my room at the Rising Stones, if you’re still there, and ask someone to bring it to Limsa on the morrow.” There was a brief pause. “If you’re able to, that is. Otherwise I can check with Hoary, if you’re busy elsewhere and won’t make it back before then.”

“No need, I am at the Rising Stones right now,” he reassured her as he got up from his chair and started for his door.

“Oh, thank you, the others are busy helping the other remaining forces here with the wounded, and I’d just teleport myself, but Krile have forbidden me from any ‘strenuous activities’, which apparently includes just that.”

The somewhat flustered and exasperated tone of her voice made him shake his head with a fond smile. Of course she wasn’t taking well to being confined to a sickbed. “Need your spare axe or a replacement armour?”

“Eh, not really… sort of…”

Well, consider his curiosity piqued. Their rooms were only a few doors apart, a distance he covered in a few rapid strides before he reached out and tried the handle, finding the door unlocked. Most trusting of her, he thought as he slipped inside.

“So what am I looking for?” Thancred asked as he looked around the room to take in the rather sparse décor and what handful of trinkets from her travels that there were on the shelves. It was just enough to make the space seem lived in. An armour rack off to the side of the door held some lighter looking scale armour, but the lance hanging off the wall by it made him think it was not what he was here for.

“There’s a chest against the wall,” Viana explained and Thancred’s gaze instantly fell onto the item in question.

“Alright, I see it.” He stepped over and tried to lift the lid. It was also unlocked. As grateful as he was to not have to pick the locks on her things, he should probably have a talk with her about leaving things so unguarded.

Peering inside, Thancred saw some clothes neatly folded together – one set that seemed to have a dark leather jacket on the top, and the other some sort of coat of heavy silk. More surprising, were the soul crystals that lay on top of each pile. It certainly wasn’t what he’d expected her to ask him to retrieve.

“It’s the left pile, if you could take it and put it in a satchel - there should be one by the bed.”

Curious, Thancred picked up the yellow crystal and looked over the etchings on it. It seemed old, and yet, he didn’t recognise the mark on it. He’d certainly never seen any of the guilds in Eorzea use the partial circle with a diagonal slash through it that was etched into the flattest surface of the crystal.

“Most interesting,” he murmured to himself, then put it to the side so he could retrieve the pile of clothes. The moment he touched them, he felt the tell-tale tingle of materia infused materials. So, not just normal clothes then. Following her directions, he put it all into a cloth satchel that hung from a hook by her bedside.

“I’ll admit, I expected you to ask me to haul out a full set of plate from here,” he mused as he tied together the satchel strings.

“I don’t exactly keep a full armoury in there,” she replied with an amused tinge to her voice.

Thancred raised an eyebrow. “Off to a brilliant start though.”

The soft sound of her chuckling was cut short by a wincing noise that made him tense up and a knot of worry appear in his chest. 

“You alright?”

“Yeah, just a bit sore.”

Briefly, Thancred considered pressing her further on her condition. All Tataru had told him was that Zenos yae Galvus had bested Viana in combat, but if she’d been unconscious for a week and her gear was so beat up she required something new… But Viana continued before he had the chance to.

“Just one thing left, if you check under the bed, there’s a box there.”

Crouching down, he reached in under and felt his fingers brush against something. After finding a handle he pulled out the polished wooden container. While at this point, he wasn’t sure what to expect, he was none the less a little surprised by the relatively slim container. It was heavy though.

“Want me to take the whole thing?” he asked.

“No, I just need one item from in it; the large sword, you’ll know which one I mean”

With permission indirectly granted, Thancred flipped open the hooks that kept the box closed. “My, my, you just have all the curiosities, don’t you,” he mused over the linkpearl as he eyed the two weapons before him.

One of them he recognized as Doman. He’d sometimes seen the more exclusive vendors in Ul’dah peddle such blades to those who collected things from far off lands. It was wrapped loosely in a dark blue scarf with gold trim, and a few gold ornaments of, he presumed, eastern origin lay on top of it. How Viana had come into the possession of one of those blades, he did not know, but he had an inkling it was probably a more interesting tale than the lacklustre ‘I bought it from a merchant’ that he’d expect from a noble.

But it clearly wasn’t the weapon she’d asked for.

Thancred picked up the other sword, eyeing the gun cylinder and delicate etchings on the blade itself with his brow knitted together in thought. The overall concept was familiar enough, and yet it seemed different that from what the imperial soldiers often wielded - the lack of a barrel being the most noticeable one. “Is it Garlean?” he asked.

“Hrothgar make, actually,” she replied.

At that, he paused. “You mean the gunbreakers?” Of course he’d heard – and regaled, numerous times during his time posing a bard - the tales of queen Gunnhildir’s personal guard and the rise of the order of the gunbreakers, but ever since the Garleans occupied Ilsabard, the word had been that all members had been killed in a failed experiment that wiped out the city they called home.

“It’s a long story, I’ll tell you it when we get back from Doma and Ala Mhigo is free.”

Fair enough, he thought. Their group’s linkpearl connection wasn’t the place for such idle chatter anyhow. “Knowing you, you’ll have plenty of stories to share once you get back here.” He closed the box and pushed it back under the bed.

“I’m sure you’ll have more than a few of your own to share,” she replied, the smile evident in her voice. “Thank you Thancred, I’m sorry to have disturbed you like this.”

“It was no trouble at all, my dear,” he replied earnestly.

After letting him know when they’d be arriving in Limsa on the morrow – courtesy of an Ironworks ship sent by Cid – they said their farewells and disconnected the call.

There was a strange tug in his chest as he stood there in her empty room and realised that he’d plain simply miss her presence in the coming months. 

As lively as the Rising Stones were, and as much as he thought of all of the Scions his friends, he could not deny that he’d come to find a modicum of peace in her steady presence as of late. He knew he’d… changed, since returning from the Lifestream, and after Minfilia passing on – he was colder, more jaded. Yet he’d never felt like she’d judged him for it, or that he’d have to hide those days where everything just felt too raw on his nerves.

On the contrary, he’d learned to recognize the same faraway look in her eyes that she seemed to see in his on those days. Those days when one just wanted to keep both hands and mind busy, and not linger on the pain gnawing a hole in ones chest. Twelve know they were both prone to burying themselves in work, so perhaps it wasn’t that strange they’d pull each other along for silent company if the opportunity afforded it.

Most of all there was a certain sense of security to know she and their friends were within a reasonable travel distance. Doma was far away. If something were to happen, it’d be long before anyone from Eorzea could help.

They’d already lost Moenbryda, Minfilia and Papalymo.

And now they’d nearly lost Viana and Y’shtola too.

Looking around, his eye fell on a book that lay on her desk. The cover was familiar, one about the history of the Allagan Empire; he’d seen her with it once, what felt like years ago, in that rare lull in activity after that Minfilia had left with the Warriors of Darkness.

Thancred reached out and picked it up. While she often joked that she was just good at hitting stuff and taking a punch in turn, not highly educated like the rest of them, the hunger for learning that she’d fostered since joining the Scions was something he’d come to admire about her. Perhaps because he knew she shared his past as a street urchin. Unlike him though, there’d been nobody there to pluck her off the streets and direct her talents towards something other than just survival. His jaw clenched at the still painful memory of Louisoix. Thancred could only hope that whatever he’d seen in the scruffy little kid who’d tried to pick his pocket that day in Limsa, had not turned out to be nothing of worth.

He regarded the book in his hand for a moment. Judging by the bookmark tucked inside, she hadn’t made much progress since he’d seen her with it.

A thought struck him, and he set down the satchel and gunblade on the bed, before stepping back to the desk to grab a piece of paper.

\----

Viana sighed as she made her way down to the Aethyrate plaza in Limsa, the sun warm on her face and sea breeze a welcoming change from the dusty air of Ala Mhigo.

The shocked voices of H’naanza and Brithael still rang loud in her ears, but at least they’d deemed her gear salvageable - after they’d finished cursing up a storm that was. Perhaps it had been a bad idea to accidentally let slip that she’d tussled with the crown prince of Garlemald as an explanation. Well, whichever way, the matter was in good hands with the two of them, she was certain. Now all that remained was to find whoever Thancred had roped into making the trip to hand over her replacement gear.

Part of her was excited to put more time on honing her gunbreaker skills, but she’d only met Radovan and Sophie a few months ago in Gridania, when they were waiting for Y’shtola to recover from the Lifestream. It all felt new, and a bit intimidating, but while her warrior training with Curious Gorge had served her well, perhaps this was the time to try something different.

“Viana!”

The familiar voice drew her from her thoughts. Turning, she searched the crowds to find the greenclad Elezen making his way towards her.

“Ah, so you’re the one who got stuck running this errand,” she greeted him with a wide smile.

Coultenet gave her a warm smile in return as he held out the satchel and what she recognized as the gunblade wrapped up in cloth. “Master Thancred didn’t have to ask twice, I volunteered right away. “

“It was most kind of you to do so, Coultenet,” Viana replied as she accepted the items. “Here, let me repay you for the aetheryte fees-“

But Coultenet held up a hand to stop her even as she reached for her coinpurse.

“’tis no need, I’m just glad to see you whole and hale and up on your feet with my own two eyes. We all got quite a fright upon hearing you and mistress Y’shtola had been so gravelly wounded in the fighting.” 

The sincerity in his expression was touching, and Viana let her hand fall back to her side. “Thank you, Coultenet.”

He bowed his head. “Now, I shan’t keep you any further from meeting with master Alphinaud. Be safe on your journeys. The rest of us will make sure Eorzea is safe in the meantime, rest assured.”

They waved farewell to each other, and Viana, carefully as to not jostle her still healing injuries, hoisted up the satchel onto her back before turning on her heel to make her way back up to the upper platforms. She’d have to remember to ask Tataru to sneak the reimbursement of the fees into Coultenet’s next payout.

When she stepped out of the lift to the upper deck, she was greeted by Alisaie.

“Ah, there you are,” she said as she crossed her arms. Her gaze fell to the wrapped up blade, raising an eyebrow at the sight. “Got everything you need, I take it?”

“That I do.”

“Good, then let’s find my brother and the others.”

\-----

There weren’t much room for ‘guest quarters’ aboard the ship, so the five of them were stuck sharing a single cabin with just four cots, ending with an agreement of Lyse and Tataru to share one of them. Alphinaud had excused himself to discuss their trip with the captain, leaving just the four of them to settle into what would be their living space for the next week or so.

“I do admit I look forward to seeing how you use this thing,” Lyse said as she turned over the gunblade in her hands.

“Hopefully not before we reach Doma,“ Viana hummed as she unlaced her satchel and started unpacking the gear in it. Ultimately though, she just elected to unceremoniously turn it upside down over the cot and shake out the jumble of belts, leather and cloth onto it next to Tataru.

“Well, the risk of pirates is always real,” Alisaie added. “Even when sailing with them.”

“Let’s hope we won’t wake up with swords to our throats then,” Viana snorted as she gingerly pulled off the loose tunic she’d been wearing in exchange of the white, more formfitting shirt Radovan had given her. The wound stretching diagonally across her torso was still an angry red line and the skin strained with each and every movement, but at least she was spared from bandages thanks to Alphinaud’s promise to Krile that he’d apply his magic to it every day.

“Oh, he wouldn’t dare,” Tataru huffed. “If he does something, I’ll come back and haunt him.” When Viana picked up the heavy cloth and leather leg-guard half-skirt from the pile, Tataru’s expression shifted into one of curiosity as she looked down at the items next to her. “Oh, what’s this?” she said as she pulled out something from under the pile. “Asked for some light reading for the trip, did you?” She scrunched up her nose. “Or... as light as the Allagan Empire is, I guess.

Viana paused, confusion written plain on her face as she eyed the familiar book. “No, I didn’t.” She had no memory of asking Thancred to include it, and why would Coultenet have put it in there?

“Someone seem to have thought you need it,” Alisaie chimed in with a knowing smirk. “Who, pray tell, was it that packed your things for you?”

“Thancred,” Tataru chirped before Viana had a chance to reply.

Her eyes darted back to the lalafell, who looked every bit like a coeurl who’d just caught a particularly juicy bird. In her lap lay the opened book to show that a ripped off piece of paper had been tucked inside of it.

Viana felt her cheeks flush hot as she, as unhurried as she could muster, plucked the book from Tataru’s lap. “I guess he saw it on my desk,” she replied, keeping her voice steady despite the treacherous flutter of her heart. Though the note was unsigned, his slanted handwriting was easily recognisable.

_‘I know you’ll keep the others from harm. Pray stay safe, Viana. Good luck.’_

Despite her logical side arguing against reading anything into it, a smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. It didn’t mean anything, surely. He knew she’d go stir-crazy without something to do. Friendly concern and acknowledgement of their shared tendencies towards burying themselves in work, that was all. And yet, the warm sensation that spread through her chest felt like it’d be enough to keep her from freezing to death right in Coerthas’ worst blizzard.

And all at once, it was accompanied with a heavy sense of trepidation.

Oh.

Oh no.

Falling for her friend… and someone whose history spoke plain of his unattached attitude towards relationships at that. She was well and truly fucked, it seemed.

Snapping the book shut, she gave flippant responses to the Tataru and Alisaie’s teasing remarks. At least Lyse seemed to believe her dismissal of their insinuations, most likely due to having made the wrong assumption herself once. Yet, as Viana tucked the book into her pack and resumed putting on her gear, her thoughts wandered, questioning the intent behind the gesture. 

To what end, though? She had no intentions of jeopardising a friendship over this. And now was certainly not a time to get distracted by unwarranted crushes.

Well, this excursion to Doma would let her clear her head at least.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not a writer, and english isn't my first language, so you are welcome to point out mistakes.


	3. Shackled (Stormblood, Thancred/WoL)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He watched as she threw her head back to laugh, her demeanour so carefree and reminiscent of how he remembered her from before the Syndicate’s plot in Ul’dah. Was it after those events, after the losses they’d suffered in the aftermath, that things had started shifting between them? They’d both changed so much in such a short time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two people, being absolute morons. I can only cross my fingers and hope that I hit in some general area of 'good characterization'.

The mood around the common quarter was jubilant.

Zenos was defeated and the Imperial forces routed.

For the first time in over twenty years, Ala Mhigo was free of tyranny and able to start down the path of healing.

People were dancing, cooking meals over open fires out in the streets and feasting on what had been recovered from the military forces’ storages. Alcohol was flowing, leading to loud, off-key singing that rose to towards the night sky like a joyful prayer of thanks to the gods.

As Thancred perched atop a rooftop, his feet dangling over the edge, he looked out over the scene below with a fond smile.

The mood was infectious.

Turning his gaze skyward, he silently offered a prayer to Ascilla and Warburton. He hoped they knew their homeland was free once more. “For the both of you,” he whispered solemnly as he raised the bottle in his hand in a toast to the stars above before taking a swig. It wasn’t any particularly fancy alcohol, not something he’d usually drink at least. But the contents of the bottle burned pleasantly in his throat none the less, and would give a buzz at some point.

It’d be enough to numb the pain in his chest, at least a little. There was no bottle deep enough to drown it out. He knew that.

Despite the reveries and the pleasant buzz of alcohol making its way through his system, his senses were ever alert to his immediate surroundings. At the sound of footsteps approaching, he tensed up and turned his head to see who it was.

“Sorry, I can leave if you want to be alone.” Viana leaned her hip against the banister of the stairs, her head tilted slightly to the side and bare arms loosely crossed over her torso as she met his gaze. She seemed tired but content, her body language loose and unassuming.

It was still unusual for him to see her in such light clothing compared to the thick armours she’d favoured since he’d met her. Even more so now, when she’d evidently felt relaxed enough to discard her coat and the more fitted armour she wore on her upper body, leaving her in just a plain white shirt. She still had greaves strapped to her legs though. And if he knew her right, despite the lack of gunblade on her back, there were at least one knife somewhere on her person.

“If the hero of the hour wishes to share my humble rooftop, who am I to turn her away.”

A grateful smile curled her lips as she pushed away from the banister and strode over to him. “Thank you, it was getting a bit much down there,” she explained sheepishly as she settled down on his right. “Saw you sitting up here and… well…”

Try as he might, it was hard to deny the warm feeling that spread through his chest at knowing she’d sought him out instead of finding her own corner of solitude. He glanced at her as she looked out over the festivities below, and felt all at once acutely aware of the warmth of her by his side.

Clearing his throat, he offered her the bottle. “After saving all of Eorzea from Gaius, ending a one-thousand year war between Ishgard and Dravania, and freeing Doma from its imperial masters, I’d have thought this would be par for the course for you.”

Their fingers brushed as she took it from him with a chuckle, and he tried not to let his mind linger on the jolt he felt at the brief touch.

“Well, we might’ve snuck out on Hien before any celebrations were had,” she laughed before taking a swig out of the bottle. Clearly used to stronger spirits, she didn’t grimace at the taste. “He and Yugiri had to chase us down in Kugane to offer their thanks right before we left for Eorzea.”

While Thancred had only had some brief conversations with him in the aftermath of Zenos defeat, the thought of the charismatic lord of Doma bolting down a crowded dock with Yugiri in tow was enough to make him chuckle in return. “Most rude of you to stand up a newly crowned king like that, my dear.”

The endearment was familiar on his tongue, and slipped out so easily. Once, it’d just been empty of any meaning beyond friendly affection, the flirtatious exchanges and suggestive remarks just part of their friendship. There’d been a line drawn that day back in Thanalan when they’d worked together for the first time to solve the mystery of the Amalj’aa and the false priest, one of silent agreement of that she’d play his verbal games but that was all.

At what point there’d started to be more... weight, behind the words when he spoke them, he did not know.

“And that reminds me, I do believe you promised me a story once you returned from Doma and we’d freed Ala Mhigo.”

There was a brief flicker of confusion on her face, her brow knitting together in a frown, before her eyes widened in realisation. “That I do, apparently,” she conceded with a nod and passed the bottle back to him. “Although I hope that you’re not hoping some grand adventure uncovering a lost Gunbreaker bastion or something.”

“I’ll temper my expectations,” he drawled.

They continued passing the bottle back and forth a couple of times as she told him about how she’d accepted a few jobs while they were in Gridania, waiting for Y’shtola to recover after her return from the Lifestream, and had met an escaped Hrothgar Gunbreaker and his Viera companion. It’d been pure chance that she’d intervened in the bandit attack on them, and the offer of learning the exotic discipline had been too good of a chance to pass up. And thus she’d apparently spent the downtime in between their dealings in Ishgard with the pair, completing various jobs in the other city states.

“How you have the time to do half the things you do, I have no idea.”

Viana shrugged a little. “It’s hard to lounge around when I know there’s people I can help.” There was a flicker of something painful in her expression, the echoed sorrow of people lost, he knew, before she recovered and smiled again. “Besides,” she continued and nodded with her chin towards the celebrations below. “It’s moments like these that make it all worth it.” 

Thancred hummed in agreement. “Just as long as they don’t shower you in too much gratitude for doing the job of two dozen people, hm?”

He watched as she threw her head back to laugh, her demeanour so carefree and reminiscent of how he remembered her from before the Syndicate’s plot in Ul’dah. Was it after those events, after the losses they’d suffered in the aftermath, that things had started shifting between them? They’d both changed so much in such a short time.

Viana’s laughter subsided and she bumped her shoulder against his in a friendly manner. “I leave the accepting of accolades and diplomatic overtures to Alphinaud; he’s got a far better head for it than I do.”

The memory of her palpable discomfort at the banquet after the Grand Melee in Ishgard came to mind. “Ah, ever ready to play the part of the humble hero.”

Accepting the bottle from her, his fingers covered hers and their eyes met. As if someone had cast a spell, something intangible snared them at that moment. The festivities below were suddenly forgotten as they sat still with their shoulders pressed together and heads lowered.

Searing heat radiated from where their skin touched and gods, he felt like he’d suddenly burn up. The mirth in her gaze shifted, the tension of laughter smoothing out to be replaced by something vulnerable and wistful.

All at once, it felt like that unspoken line in the sand had turned into a cliff’s edge, and that he was teetering on its precipice with her in that moment. If he leaned in, he felt sure she’d meet him halfway. One single step and he could take the fall with her and confront how there were something _more_ between them.

Yet, he hesitated. He had a tangled, sordid past. She was the hero of the people, the chosen of Hydaelyn herself. Did he really want to be selfish and risk tarnishing her with his history? With how many people he’d failed, all the mistakes he’d made, was he really someone who could stand by her in that sense? Could he even admit to himself that what he wanted went beyond mere physical lust?

Lust he knew what to do with.

This however, that tugged so viciously at his heart…

Maybe it was the alcohol in his system, but when her tongue darted out to nervously wet her lip, his resolve nearly crumbled right there and then.

“Lady Viana! Master Thancred!”

Like a rope cut by a sword, the tension that’d held them there was severed and they both jerked apart. He saw a brief flicker of regret in her eyes before she seemed to once more slip on the stoic mask of the ‘Warrior of Light’. He didn’t let himself linger at his own pang of remorse. In unison they turned to look at the rebel scout that came running up the stairs. “General Aldynn requires your presence at the palace!”

Viana was already getting up before the scout had finished the sentence. “Is something wrong?” she asked, her demeanour instantly sharp and serious.

Thancred was right behind her, leaving the bottle right there at the edge of the roof. The scout explained that something had turned up during the investigation of the imperial facilities, and that the general needed the Scions’ opinion on it.

As they followed the scout, Thancred made an effort of burying the tangled mess of feelings in the depths of his heart. It was for the best, after all.

If he didn’t act on them and gave her no reason to think they were mutual, then she’d forget about him and move on. Maybe then she’d realise that Aymeric would court her in a heartbeat if she let him, or that even the young lord of Doma seemed taken in with her.

Like moths to her bright light, they all were.

And like the fool he was, he still felt himself lingering at the edges of her presence, unable to fully leave it for the darkness outside of it.


	4. Just Friends (Thancred&WoL ARR)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Putting two and two together, Viana frowned. “What, you mean Thancred? Why would I be bothered by him?”
> 
> There was a brief pause.
> 
> “He’s flirting with a girl.”
> 
> “… Thancred is always flirting with someone?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like I've typed 'line in the sand' far too many times lately, ahah.
> 
> As someone from the Critical Role fandom, most of ARR was a bit weird, because all I heard when Thancred spoke was '5000 year old Goth Uncle' Taliesin Jaffe, so it took until 3.1 until I really got on the thirst train.

”Doesn’t that bother you?”

Viana didn’t look up from her axe, frowning instead as she scrutinized the edge of it before she resumed running the whetstone over it. The imperials’ armours sure had a tendency to dull her axe something horrendously. “Doesn’t what bother me?”

“That!”

At the sound of the insistent, frustrated edge to Yda’s voice, Viana paused with a sigh and looked up to see just what had her friend in such a mood.

“What?” she asked as she looked in the direction Yda’s hand was pointing across the sunlit plaza of Revenant’s Toll from where they were perched on one of the low stone walls, and towards the doors to the 7th Heaven and Rising Stones. She frowned, her gaze flittering back and forth between the crowds as she tried to figure out what precisely about the scene that apparently should be bothering her. Amongst the groups of adventurers milling about around the aetheryte and Crystal Braves patrolling, the only people she outright recognised was a few of the Doman refugees, and Thancred. He was leaning against the wall to the right of the doors in to the 7th Heaven, evidently busy chatting with some miqo’te girl with the garb of a white mage. Judging by her body language, the poor girl was already smitten.

All in all, it seemed like a normal day in Revenant’s Toll.

“Afraid you’ll have to spell it out to me,” she finally drawled dryly and turned her attention back to her axe.

“Seriously?” Yda sighed. “If you’re asking me, it’s downright suicidal of him when you’re sitting here in plain view with _that_ thing.” Her hand flitted into Viana’s field of vision, clearly motioning towards the weapon she was busy sharpening. “Or terribly suicidal of her I guess.”

Putting two and two together, Viana frowned. “What, you mean Thancred? Why would I be bothered by him?”

There was a brief pause.

“He’s flirting with a girl.”

“… Thancred is always flirting with someone?”

“Aren’t you two sleeping together?”

Shocked, Viana pushed harder than she intended with the whetstone and the thing slipped right off the edge of the axe. Sharp pain rushed up from her thumb and she jerked back, nearly dropping her weapon while she gave up a string of creative curses loud enough to ring out over the plaza. Startled, several people turned around to look in their direction while a flock of cloudkin, evidently offended by the loud noise, scattered from a nearby roof top.

“Oh gods, Viana are you all right!?”

Viana frowned down at the cut on her hand. It was bleeding, but not deep enough that she’d require a healer. “I’m fine, no need to sound so worried.” Glancing at Yda, she elected just to suck on the wound. “An’ ’m no’ shleepin’ wi’h ‘Hancred,” she added as firmly as she could with half her thumb in her mouth.

If Yda hadn’t been wearing a mask, Viana had the distinct sense that she’d see her friend blink slowly at her right then. “You’re not?”

Viana shook her head in reply.

“But the two of you are always… you know! Flirting, as if you’re ready to pull each other into the nearest broom closet!”

At that, she couldn’t help but cackle as she removed her injured digit from her mouth. The scrunched up look on Yda’s lips just further caused her mirth. While she waited for her laughter to subside, Viana fished out a clean piece of cloth from a pouch hanging from her belt to wrap around the wound. Ah, maybe she should’ve figured that’s where the misunderstanding came from.

“Yda, you know he flirts with _everyone_. Sure, he’s attractive and a good friend, but we’re just messing with each other. He knows that, I know that.” She waved her hand dismissively. “Lines in the sand, and all that.”

“Huh.” Yda’s shoulders slumped. “ Guess Papalymo was right then.”

“… You’re gossiping about me and Thancred with Papalymo? Halone, strike me down right here and now.”

“What’s this I hear, gossip about Viana and I?”

Viana turned her head to find the subject of the discussion approaching them with a grin playing on his lips and curious twinkle in his eyes. Of course he’d heard. Sometimes she wondered if he had an additional sense just for when people were talking about him, whether he was in earshot or not.

Electing not to beat around the bush, she nodded her head towards Yda. “Yda here think we’re sleeping together. Something about how we sound like we’re constantly frequenting broom closets.”

“Hey!”

Ignoring Yda’s outburst, Thancred chuckled. “While I quite prefer a bed for such activities, I’d never say no to a surreptitious liaison with you, my dear,” he replied with a playful wink. 

Rising to the proverbial bait, Viana grinned and leaned back on one hand, keeping her injured one on the shaft of her axe lest it’d slip from her lap. “If you’re not busy, we could just go and confirm these apparent rumours right away.”

“Oh, but such a momentous occasion as you gracing my bed surely deserves some proper planning.” Thancred pulled a regretful expression, hand over his heart, looking every bit the dramatic bard his cover story proclaimed him to be.

“Alas, if so be your wish.” With a forlorn sigh she looked away in a mock display of dismayed bashfulness. “I shall try to reign in this overwhelming _need_ for you little longer then, fair one.” 

Their eyes met again and there was a brief pause before they both burst out into laughter. As it subsided, Thancred relaxed and crossed his arms. “Well, to my eternal regret, Viana speaks the truth,” he explained with a grin, his eyes on Yda. “And as much as I’d love to linger in such exquisite company as the both of you, pray excuse me, fair ladies, I have a few errands to run in Ul’dah for Minfilia.” With a flourished bow, he turned and started making his way towards the aetheryte.

“Ah, so that miqo’te lass was on your errand list then?” Viana laughed after him.

“I was merely doing the gentlemanly thing and sharing my vast knowledge with a lost maiden!” he retorted over his shoulder.

Viana made a doubtful noise. “And you still owe me a replacement boot-knife, Thancred,” she finally called out before he’d made it too far away.

He promptly spun on his heel as he kept walking backwards. “I haven’t forgotten!” he replied with a smile before turning around again.

“See, lines in the sand.”

Yda looked between Thancred’s retreating back and Viana. “How was there any lines drawn in that exchange,” she deadpanned.


	5. Called (Patch 4.4-4.5)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man, how did you all deal with 4.4-4.56 in real time, I played through them over one weekend and my friend had the joy of waking up to me having spammed him with 40ish offline messages on steam, that was 80% just incoherent blubbering, for two days in a row.

The pain was unlike anything she’d ever experience. It pressed down all around her, like it was trying to crush her, and yet at the same time it was as if something was pulling at her, fraying the very fabric of her being.

Darkness swam in front of her, thick and liquid. The world seemed unsteady, even though she wasn’t moving, she felt like the space around her was.

“History… must be changed…”

The voice came from everywhere at once, as if the person speaking shifted location even as they spoke. Viana tried to focus, staring into the darkness as if keeping her eyes on a fixed point would prevent the world from shifting under her feet.

Through gritted teeth, she asked the first question that popped up in her pain-addled thoughts. “Who are you?”

“Ahead looms a calamity,” the voice echoed in response. “Ahead looms Light, expunging all form and life. Twin dooms, only you can forestall. Only you.”

Well that didn’t sound good.

“What’s the matter?”

Raubahn’s voice seemed too distant yet near. She turned her head towards it – or did the world just shift around her?

It was all so confusing.

She was vaguely aware of the solid wood under her hands as she tried to steady herself, and yet at the same time it felt like she grasped at nothing but air, standing up somewhere rather than sitting by a table.

The darkness before her shifted, turning, twisting, warping to show Alisaie clutching her head next to her, before her vision swam once more to admiral Merlwyb shouting something.

What was happening? Was that noise her screaming? Or was it Alisaie?

The darkness shifted once more, as if someone had dropped a curtain right in front of her eyes.

“Let expanse contract, eon become instant…” the strange voice called out. “Throw open the gates so we may pass!”

And then, all of a sudden, the pain and pressure washed away as if never there to begin with.

Viana panted, staring down at the table in front of her. Once she was certain the world wouldn’t suddenly twist on its axis again, she glanced to her side at the others. “Wh-what was that?” she choked out.

Y’shtola and Alisaie both had wide, worried looks in their eyes as their gazes darted to and from.

“Is it over?” Y’shtola asked, but before anyone could say anything, there was a thud as Thancred’s hunched over form fell out of view.

“Master Thancred!” Aymeric called out. Kan-E-Senna instantly grabbed her staff and hurried around the table to Thancred’s side.

Despite the tremors in her limbs, Viana struggled up from her own seat, gripping the back of Alisaie’s chair for support, just as Y’shtola did the same. Her stomach dropped when Kan-E-Senna seemed to take one look at Thancred and then instantly turned around and called for healers.

Muted, in the background, she heard the doors being thrown open and Hien’s voice as he seemed to call out for the nearby servants to relay Kan -E-Senna’s orders.

“Is he alive?” Alisaie asked, her voice still shaken with pain.

A thread of dread lodged itself into Viana’s chest when the elder seedspeaker did not immediately reply, instead remaining crouched over Thancred with her hand on his back.

Gods, not again. Not him.

“Yes,” she finally answered. But her voice was careful and measured, and far from reassuring. 

Glancing at Y’shtola, Viana was met with a worried expression that mirrored her own feelings.

“We should take him to a room so I can examine him,” Kan-E-Senna continued, her tone turning into the steely calm of someone used to maintaining a composed presence in chaotic situations. Raubahn was saying something, and there was a flash of red as Lyse bolted away out of the hall.

Steeling herself, Viana nodded and fell to her knees at Thancred’s side. “I can carry him there.”

Kan-E-Senna met her gaze, and for a moment the elder seedseer looked like she might advise against it. Viana was certain she was white as a sheet, but at this point she needed something to focus on and do. If she was left to linger, the fear in her chest would surely consume her. Her heart was hammering so hard in her chest it felt like it’d burst through her ribcage. But much to her relief, Kan-E-Senna finally gave her a curt nod.

“A room is being prepared and the healers are gathering there,” Lyse called out from the door.

“Alright then,” Viana whispered and rolled Thancred over on his back. After handing over his weapons to Y’shtola, she hoisted him up in her arms and stood up. Glancing down at his lax features, she could almost think he was just asleep. It felt all too familiar from that last time she’d had to carry his lifeless form. Surely the smell of smoke and the stifling heat of, raging, out of control fires were entirely in her imagination.

At least this time his body wasn’t marred with wounds caused by her.

“Why must it always be you,” she mumbled as she followed Kan-E-Senna and Lyse out from the room, with Alisaie and Y’shtola right behind her. Two times she’d lost him; two times she’d been fortunate to see him return to her side.

_By the grace of Hydaelyn, I don’t ask much; whatever this is, don’t let this be the time I don’t get him back. Please, Minfilia, wherever you are; guide him back to us._

\---

In the end, there was naught she could do but lunge forward to fall to her knees on the hard ground of the Ghimlyt Dark, straining through the remnants of the pain, to catch Alisaie’s body in her arms before she hit the dark earth.

In a daze, Viana cradled her small, lifeless form close. It felt like she could not breathe no matter how hard she tried. She heard Hien’s voice, saw his mouth move, but it was like her brain refused to register his words. Her entire body trembled, cold and utterly numb.

So this was it.

Thancred, Y’shtola, Urianger, Alphinaud… and now Alisaie.

They were all gone.

She was alone again.

And there’d been nothing she could do to prevent it. No enemy to fight. No discernible solution what had befallen them. Just a rush of pain and a mysterious voice, whose speaker she still was not sure wasn’t just an Ascian trick, for the words they said made no sense at all.

One by one. Ripped away.

A broken sob shook her as she screwed her eyes shut, the pain of loss freezing out all other thoughts besides ‘why’.

The feeling of a solid arm wrapping itself around her shoulders drew her back from the dark abyss in her mind. “Come, my friend, let’s make haste back to the encampment,” Hien’s gentle voice urged from her side.

Viana’s gaze flickered to his, then Yugiri’s wide-eyed, concerned expression.

No, she wasn’t alone. Swallowing hard, she nodded and adjusted her hold on Alisaie before she rose to her feet once more. She had to keep going.

For them. And for those still with her.

\---

And she did. All the way to the Rising Stones, where she could hand over Alisaie’s lifeless body to Coultenet before he hurried after Krile to the infirmary.

Until Tataru turned and looked up at her, tears welling in her eyes as she seemed just as lost and fearful for their friends.

Viana felt her knees buckle as she slumped to the hard stone floor. And in an instant Tataru were in her arms as they clung to each other.

Only then, in the safety of the Rising Stones, did she let the tears fall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One of those messages was a all caps "Where is the option to hug Tataru? I demand to be allowed to hug the best lalafell girl! D:"


	6. Timely Arrivals (SHB)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is it weird that I enjoy reformating bossfights to text?

Diving into a roll, Viana narrowly avoided yet another blast of lightning as it slammed down where she’d been standing mere moments before. That dragon was a damn nuisance.

There wasn’t much time to contemplate the creature though when its master was a more immediate threat. As soon as she came up on her feet, she narrowly dodged a blow from Ran’jit.

Teeth clenched, she pivoted and discharged the cartridge in her gunblade as she aimed a counter strike against the general. The aether exploded, aiding in the force of her blow, but it just glanced by Ran’jit as he moved out of the way.

Damn it all, he was too fast. Despite her rising sense of being out of her league, she pressed her attack to try and get him off balance. The others would hopefully recover soon from whatever had stunned them. She just had to keep him busy and away from them and Minfilia until then.

With a shout, she swung her gunblade, only for him to catch the edge with his forearm, unperturbed by the blast of aether heating up the blade. The retaliating punch brushed by her cheek as she dodged to the left. Too close! She tried to feint to the side, but he saw through it and cut off her attack once more, forcing her to awkwardly jump back as he swept out his leg in a powerful kick.

Panting, Viana glared as he relaxed his stance. Those cold, calculating eyes felt like they were peering right into her soul. They were the eyes of a hunter, someone who did not mess around. The hairs at the back of her neck stood at an end. It reminded her too much of the look Elidibus, in possession of Zenos body, had had as they clashed at the battlefield at Ghimlyt Dark.

“The boy over there,” Ran’jit spoke casually. “He matches the description of a painter that my lord is looking for. We’re also to be on the lookout for his alleged assistant; a tall hume woman with dark hair. It’s most fortuitous to find all my quarries in one place.”

Viana grimaced, her gaze not leaving the general for a moment as she tightened her grip on her gunblade. Crap, this wasn’t good.

Ran’jit sunk into his battle stance again, still regarding her with cool appraisal. “By all means, keep your council. As interesting as it is to take stock of that fool Exarch’s mysterious allies, this ends here.” Aether suddenly swirled around him, rising off him in waves as his gaze turned cruel and determined. “You’ll all answer for your crimes back in Eulmore.”

The crackling energy in the air around her warned her of the incoming lightning. Viana threw herself to the side, moving swiftly to avoid the rapid succession of lightning bolts. But then, seemingly anticipating her movements, one suddenly exploded right in front of her, sending up a shower of dirt and dust.

White spots danced in front of her eyes when an intense burst of energy suddenly hit her, throwing her back several yalms. As she tumbled to the ground, she managed to recover control of the momentum and rolled onto her side while trying to plant her feet under herself to spring back up again in anticipation of Ran’jit’s next attack. 

But barely had she risen up before a flash of intense pain coursed through her body as a veil of electricity seemed to lay itself over her, making her muscles tense up as she cried out in pain. Her knees hit the ground painfully as she hunched over, panting for breath. Behind her she could hear the concerned voices of Alisaie and Alphinaud, but she kept her eyes trained on Ran’jit as she struggled against the effects of his spell.

He seemed entirely unconcerned as he stalked towards her, his expression back to that cool appraising look. Another surge of pain wrecked her body, the energies making her muscles spasm, until her arms and legs finally buckled and she tumbled face-first back to the ground.

“Dammit,” she hissed through her clenched teeth as she tried to will her body to move. An attempt to draw on her aether just resulted in another sharp shock of pain. The faint threads of panic laced themselves throughout her body as her heart hammered against her ribcage.

Viana heard Ran’jit stop by her right before a strong hand gripped her hair painfully and pulled her off the ground and into a kneeling position. He kept a firm grip on her, forcing her head back to meet his gaze. “You are an interesting one,” he spoke, “more resilient than the others. I wonder why…”

“To the hells with you,” Viana growled. “You’re not getting the girl.” At her sides, her fingers twitched uselessly as she tried to reach for her weapon.

A cruel smirk curled the corner of Ran’jit’s mouth. “It do not matter why, we’ll have plenty of time-”

The sound of rapid footfalls drew his attention and he let go of her hair to swirl around and face whoever it was. Without him holding her up, Viana slumped forward, but managed to shift her weight to stay upright and not kiss the ground again.

An angry, wordless shout cut through the air, followed by the sound of something impacting and a gust of wind.

“Thancred?”

Had she not caught Minfilia’s soft gasp, she would probably not have recognized the gunblade wielding man at first glance – not when she’d expected the same blindfolded rogue as before. But as it were, any relief at seeing Thancred again was quickly outweighed by the realisation that he had no bigger luck in combating Ran’jit than she did. Ran’jit ducked and weaved, until finally landing a retaliating blow that sent Thancred staggering backwards.

“So you’re the wretch who stole her away from us.”

“So what if I am!?” Thancred snarled in response as he recovered and swung his blade again at the general, only for him to hit empty air once more.

Seeing the futility of the situation, Viana struggled once more against the magic holding her down, desperate to get up and help him. Maybe the two of them could be enough to drive Ran’jit into a retreat at least.

But soon enough, Thancred was thrown back, skidding to a halt by her as he fell to his knees.

“Vermin such as you are not worthy of the Oracle,” Ran’jit sneered.

Suddenly, a light appeared around them both, and for split a second, she feared it was another of Ran’jit’s tricks, before the brief look of surprise on his face clued her in to the opposite. 

And then her vision went white.

\----

When the light dispersed, gone was the fort and general. Instead, they were all in the middle of a forest road.

Viana flexed her fingers, instinctively searching for her weapon, and to her relief, whatever that’d just teleported them, or the distance itself, had made the electrical surges wear off, allowing her to move freely again. Her shoulder relaxed a bit as she closed her hand around her gunblade.

In front of her Thancred instantly got up and spun on his heel, his white coat swirling around him.

“Are you alright?” he asked as he held out a hand.

Unbidden, her heart skipped a beat. Gods, it was good to see him again.

“Timely arrival,” Viana groaned as she grabbed his forearm and let him pull her back on her feet. “Did you wait until the last second before intervening?”

There was a brief tug at the corner of his mouth, the look in his hazel eyes softening as they for just a brief moment regarded each other, hands still clasped around each other’s forearms. She wanted to relax, to ask about the girl, the lack of a blindfold, what he’d been doing all this time, where he’d picked up the gunbreaker skills, and , as inane as the urge was, _apologise for making him wait for five years_, but now was not the time.

Seemingly in a wordless agreement, his expression turned serious again as they both let go of each other, before he turned to regard their whole group. “We can talk once we’re in safety,” he explained. “For now, run, we’re making it for the border. Minfilia, can you move?”

As Thancred moved past her to help the blonde girl stand up, Viana looked back at the others, relieved to find Lyna, Alphinaud and Alisaie getting back on their feet as well. “Are you three uninjured?” she asked as she holstered her gunblade, eyes going up and down the twins in particular to check for injuries.

The three of them nodded in unison.

“Are you?” Alphinaud asked as he hurried over to her, the concern evident in his eyes. 

With a reassuring smile, Viana patted his shoulder. Her muscles were sore from the magic that’d wrecked through her, but she could move, and that’s what mattered. “Nothing I can’t walk off.”

“Come, their scouts are surely looking for you already,” Lyna interrupted as she took the lead, “the border is not far from here and I know a shortcut through the woods.”

And with that, they all set off in a run down the road.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I write this just for that one running joke about Big Damn Hero entrances? Of course not, that'd be silly. ...


	7. Sacrifices (SHB, Thancred/WoL)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Viana, whe- where is Y’shtola?” Minfilia‘s distressed question echoed in the large stone chamber, which instantly seemed all too devoid of air to breathe properly.
> 
> Sitting up, Thancred looked at Viana but she didn’t meet his eyes. “What happened?” he demanded, the edge of desperation creeping into his tone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At some point I'm going to just write something on Thancred meeting his Gunbreaker trainer because yikes, the feels that 80 gunbreaker quest gave me was way too early in the morning to have.

Damn the eulmorans, and damn Ran’jit, right down to the depths of the Seventh Hell.

Despite their precautions, he’d managed to slink by them while they and the Viis were engaged with the bulk of the eulmoran forces. His absence on the field should have been an instant tipoff. And then they’d been slowed down by soldiers he’d told to stay behind and watch the rear.

“I can hear people down this way!” Minfilia exclaimed as she darted ahead of Thancred and Urianger.

“Minfilia- oh sod it,” Thancred hissed as she disappeared around a corner. The moment he saw the bodies of the Viis he heard Viana call out for Minfilia to stay back. It was followed by what sounded like stone cracking.

Rounding the corner he saw Viana dodge another strike from Ran’jit, her foot coming dangerously close to the cliff edge behind her as she seemed to cradle something close to her chest. Something’s wrong. Why wasn’t she fighting back? And where was Y’shtola?

“Urianger!” he called out, as he sprinted ahead.

“At once!” Urianger confirmed, sliding to a stop as aether swirled around his hands.

Ran’jit’s head turned to them just as Urianger’s magic took hold of him. Realising what was happening, Viana quickly threw herself out of the general’s reach just as his hand shot out to grab hold of her – for leverage against them, or to drag her with him Thancred did not know. Then the magic tether yanked him out over the dark abyss.

Pushing off the edge of the cliff, Thancred leapt across the vast chasm to meet him. “Down with you,” he snarled as he fired off a cartridge to gain momentum to his strike. Unable to dodge mid-air, the blow connected, sending Ran’jit plummeting downwards.

Quickly shifting his grip to sink his gunblade into the cliff ahead, lest he’d join Ran’jit in the fall, Thancred watched with gritted teeth and a sense of grim satisfaction as the white-clad form was swallowed up by darkness below. That should be the end of him. Finally they were free of him hounding their every step and threatening Minfilia. Even there, hanging precariously from his gunblade, he felt a sense of relief at the thought.

“Thancred!”

He looked up to see Viana reaching down a hand for him. With a nod in thanks, he found purchase against the rock wall with a foot and pushed himself up enough to grip her hand. With his gunblade returned to his back, she was able to help him pull himself up and over the edge of the platform, where they collapsed next to each other.

“My thanks,” Thancred sighed.

“Don’t… don’t thank me yet.” 

Dread instantly cut through him. He knew that weary, clipped tone. 

“Viana, whe- where is Y’shtola?” Minfilia‘s distressed question echoed in the large stone chamber, which instantly seemed all too devoid of air to breathe properly.

Sitting up, Thancred looked at Viana but she didn’t meet his eyes. “What happened?” he demanded, the edge of desperation creeping into his tone.

She clenched her jaw before she looked up. It may have been over five years since then, but he still remembered that look in her eyes. It was the same one she’d had after they’d left Papalymo behind – too firm, like she was falling to pieces on the inside but unwilling to show her own grief, so she could shoulder the sorrow of those around her instead.

“The… “She swallowed. “They poisoned the Night’s Blessed… the antidote…” she glanced to the side and he followed her line of sight to the blue bottle safely tucked up against the wall – evidently the thing she had been protecting before. “It would have fallen but…”

In his mind, Thancred was putting two and two together. His mouth felt too dry as he looked back to Viana, just as she averted her gaze again, her expression twitching with anguish. “She leapt after it instead. I… she _fell_, Thancred.”

Damn it Y’shtola. Sorrow made his throat grow too tight to draw breath, along with the guilt of not having stopped Ran’jit’s pursuit of them to the temple sooner. Had he been faster, more attentive, had he been here… Without thinking, he put an arm around Viana’s shoulders and pulled her close in a one-armed hug. For a moment she tensed, but then a shudder shook her as she hid her face in the crook of his neck. A harsh, mournful exhale made her body slump as she finally let the mask slip for a moment.

He could take that burden for her at this moment. Let her mourn – he knew Y’shtola had always been close to her; the one she’d first befriended, who’d invited her to the Scions to start with, the one she thanked for that she’d been given a chance to find a family in them all. Thancred’s eyes found Urianger’s across the chasm, and slowly a look of sad understanding appeared on his face. With a measured nod, he then turned to put a hand on Minfilia’s shoulder as he crouched down to speak with her. Thancred watched as her bewildered expression shifted into horror and sadness, her hands going up to her mouth before she threw her arms around Urianger’s neck.

Taking a deep breath, Thancred closed his eyes for a moment. “She always did what she thought was the best course of action for those she care for,” he murmured. 

“I know,” Viana whispered against his collar, her hot breath fanning across his skin. “Doesn’t make the pain go away.”

His hand found hers and he gave it a comforting squeeze. “No it doesn’t,” he responded softly, barely keeping the bitterness out of his voice. How many would they lose to valiant sacrifices? There’d been too many of them already. “But she would not want us to linger.”

Thancred felt her nod and draw a long breath before she sat back up. “Yes, we need to get the antidote to the Blessed. And then find the Lightwarden.” She paused and glanced at him. Despite the determined set to her jaw, sorrow weighted heavily on her features, but then there was a moment of hesitant gratitude in her expression. “Thank you,” she said softly, and then stood up, turning away from him to retrieve the bottle of antidote.

At her words, there was a tug at his heart followed by a half-forgotten warmth in his chest, one he thought he'd buried five years ago. Against his better judgment, he clung to it and to the feeling of her leaning against him. It was better than the chilling numbness of losing one more friend – one more failure to protect yet another member of his family.


	8. Afflictions of the heart (SHB, MSQ 77)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Well? Spit it out then.”
> 
> At the harsh tone of his voice, she shot him a furious look and stopped. “I’m trying to find a beginning to this mess that doesn’t involve me punching you straight on the nose,” she growled.
> 
> They stared at each other, neither willing to be the first to look away, their body language rigid. She could see the muscles in his jaw tense.
> 
> “Well, that would certainly improve matters,” Thancred replied with a dry, emotionless voice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the point where I do the nervous 'man do I hope I interpreted the dialogue and characters right' dance. I genuinely wanted the option to chew him out in game, but ah well, restrictions.
> 
> Anyway, I've been poking away at this one for too long so... go forth little fic, be free.

”Have you no words for her?”

Despite the roiling anger that burned in her veins at that moment, Viana tried her best to keep her voice low, even and not accusatory. Her eyes flickered from where Urianger was crouched next to Minfilia, back to Thancred. The other two didn’t seem to have noticed them standing around the corner and listening in on the heart-wrenching conversation.

“Not today,” Thancred replied quietly.

Viana clenched her jaw and flexed her fingers as the anger she’d tried her best to keep under wraps unravelled. Her hand shot out to grab Thancred by the lapel of his coat to get his attention.

He instantly tensed as his head snapped towards her. There was a challenge in those hazel eyes, but at that moment, she was too fed up with his bullshit to care and glared back.

“Come with me,” she hissed, lest they’d be overheard. “_Now._”

Without sparing him another glance, she let go of him and stalked away. There was a brief moment of silence, but then she heard the muffled crunch of his boots against the gravel as he followed. Good, then she wouldn’t have to cause a scene right then and there in front of the already upset girl. Twelve know she would not hesitate to throw him over her shoulder if she had to.

The walk across the small settlement of Twine was far too short for Viana to set her thoughts straight, so once they reached the backside of the inn, safely out of earshot of Urianger and Minfilia and any other people milling about, she started pacing back and forth.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Thancred lean against the rickety building, his arms crossed. “Well? Spit it out then.”

At the harsh tone of his voice, she shot him a furious look and stopped. “I’m trying to find a beginning to this mess that doesn’t involve me punching you straight on the nose,” she growled.

They stared at each other, neither willing to be the first to look away, their body language rigid. She could see the muscles in his jaw tense.

“Well, that would certainly improve matters,” Thancred replied with a dry, emotionless voice.

“Oh by Halone’s frozen tits, Thancred,” she snapped. “Because what’s happening right now is so splendid to start with!” She stepped closer and jabbed a finger into his chest, for once glad that her Highlander heritage gave her a marked height advantage on him. “I tried to keep my mouth shut, thought it wasn’t my place to say anything, but Twelve forgive me, I clearly don’t have Y’shtola’s self-restraint-“

“Nor do you have any more right than her to say what I’m supposed to do!” he growled as he glared up at her.

“No, I don’t! You are an adult and can make your own decisions!” 

By now they were right in each other’s personal space, just a few ilms from each other, still locked into a glaring contest. She’d tried to keep quiet for weeks in hope that it wouldn’t come to this critical junction, hoped that Urianger or Y’shtola, who had known him longer and might be more objective than her, would breach the subject with him.

But now that they stood by the crossroad, the hypothetical cup had not so much overflown as it’d been tossed into a damned lake. 

Not willing to give him a chance to reply or argue further, Viana barrelled on. “If you want to wallow in your misery, fine! But I can’t stand quiet anymore when your actions are impacting someone who has come to depend on you!” Her posture relaxed ever so slightly as she felt sorrow well up inside her – for him, and for both of the Minfilias. “I get that the guilt and grief and memories of Minfilia haunt you,” she continued, the edge of anger gone from her voice. “Gods, I felt that through the Echo and nearly thought I’d keel right over into Urianger’s arms from the sheer force of it!”

There was a flicker of defiance in Thancred’s gaze and he opened his mouth, no doubt to argue that despite the memory she’d seen, she had no idea about how he felt. And maybe she didn’t. Not the full extent anyhow. It was brief glimpse into what she’d come to understand was a decade old issue of his.

But she’d heard those arguments before from others, and had no patience for them at this moment, not from someone she still considered her friend and who had refused to open up about the grief in his heart to any of them – not Y’shtola, not Urianger, not her. 

So before he could speak Viana jabbed her finger into his chest again. “No! You listen for once! By all the seven Hells, Thancred, that girl told me straight to my face in Il Mheg that she is certain that you hate her, and have only kept her around as a contingency in case the Crystal Exarch failed to summon me!” Unable to look at him anymore, she spun on her heel and put some distance between them. “The amount of pain and suffering she showed then, I am glad it didn’t set off the Echo like I feared it would, so I could at least keep thinking you’re still the man whose side I’ve fought by and whose lifeless body I had to carry out of that damn meeting in Ala Mhigo!”

“It’s been five years! Maybe I’m not that man anymore!” Thancred steely reply.

“I don’t know,” she replied over her shoulder, “you certainly still seem as boneheaded about dealing with your personal issues as I remember you to be!”

“Says the woman who was right there with me, throwing herself into work to deal with her losses!”

Viana whirled around to face him again as the anger flared up once more. The accusation was accurate. Maybe she should have called him out on it long ago; maybe her own sorrow over those she’d lost had clouded her view of it all. “You’re right! But at least I was willing to speak with those around me instead of letting the guilt consume me! To Alphinaud, Y’shtola, Aymeric!” she growled. “Damn it all Thancred, you have people who care about you too! You could have talked to F’lhaminn! Or any of us!”

Thancred glared at her. Uncrossing his arms, he pushed away from the wall, but didn’t step any closer to her. “What does it matter, as long as I’m able to do my job, right? Why do _you_ care so much!?”

“Because I love you, you moron and-! “ It felt like her heart stopped. She froze mid-yell, her mouth closing with a click. His enraged expression momentarily softened out into surprise. Well, there was no taking back of that. But she could deal with whatever fallout of that slip later. Instead she closed her eyes, swallowing thickly and working her jaw until she felt like the jagged shards of conflicting emotions in her chest had stilled and she had her voice under control again. 

Once she was sure her expression was schooled back into something neutral, she continued, “And as much as it hurts me to see you suffering and unwilling to talk to any of us about it; it hurts all the more to see you so callously inflict pain on an innocent girl with your brooding and selfish wallowing.” She opened her eyes again, meeting his once more unflinching glare. “You know what I saw in that memory of yours.” 

One of her hands shot out to point in the direction of where they’d left the subject of this whole argument. “That girl did not ask for any of this, and Minfilia, the one who we all still mourn the loss of, is aware of the burden that is on her shoulders and that’s why she’s giving her this choice.” Despite her best attempt to keep her voice steady, the memory of young Minfilia’s anguished declarations caused a tremble in it when she continued. “And yet this Minfilia thinks her life is so worthless, her efforts to our cause so meaningless, that she’s willing to trade it in so we can get the Oracle to tell us where the Lightwardens are, that that is the best way she can aid us in this fight. And most importantly, she’s willing to do it because she thinks it’ll make _you_ happier to have ‘your’ Minfilia back - to have your precious second chance with her.”

At that, Thancred finally lowered his gaze in what she could only hope was shame. They both stood in silence, the turmoil of emotions thick between them. Viana could feel her pulse pound in her ears as she crossed her arms.

“I only want what’s good for her… why can’t she see that…”

“Then fucking tell her that,” Viana snapped. “If you care for her, stop being an arse who keeps her at arm’s length because you’re afraid and running from _your_ problems and _your_ past!”

When Thancred didn’t respond, Viana shook her head and looked away with a sigh. Anger still raged in her chest, but it’d been tempered into a steely tranquil resolve. What a mess they were. After a moment, she continued softly, “You’re one of the strongest, most cunning men I know.” Out of the corner of her eye, she could see him remain stock still. “You’ve been there when I’ve faltered, worked yourself to the bone to keep us all safe and see that our goals are met.” Swallowing down the misery rising like bile in her throat, she closed her eyes as she thought back on the self-deprecating way he’d spoken at the mines. “You are a better man than you think you are, Thancred.”

Fed up, Viana promptly stalked off without waiting to see if he’d reply. She needed to cool off. What he did with her words, it was up to him. At least she’d said something now.

\----

It took her three rapid circuits of the area around Twine and the railway track, and four slain coyotes that were desperate enough to try their luck at making her their dinner, before she finally felt okay enough to walk back through the gates of the modest settlement.

There was a clear bustle of activity around the tracks as the final preparations were put upon the hulking Talos. The excitement was palpable. Viana found Urianger overseeing it all, with Minfilia perched on a crate some way off to the side. At the sight of the young girl’s hunched up shoulders and downturned face, the sorrow tore through Viana’s chest once more.

“Ah, thou return.” Urianger kept his eyes on the activity before him. “Mine apologies for our disappearance before, we hath the…. Need of a talk.”

“It is fine,” Viana sighed as she joined his side. “We had one of our own.”

She felt Urianger’s eyes on her then, but kept her attention on the workers milling about around the Talos.

“Thy affections for him compelled thou to attempt to soothe the ache in his heart?” he finally asked softly.

Surprise shot through her, every muscle in her body going rigid. Of course Urianger had noticed. A harsh, bitter laugh rose from her chest. “Ah, nothing as obvious as hopeless, unreciprocated love is there…” she said under her breath. What was the point of denying his observation at this point? 

Swallowing, she crossed her arms. “But no, my friend, I fear I don’t have your or Alphinaud’s way with words,” she finally answered as she glanced up at Urianger. His golden eyes held so much sorrow and regret. Gods, they were all pretty damaged, were they not? “I may have yelled at him. And… threatened to punch him on the nose.” She gave him a weak, sheepish smile. “Besides, it is not mine or anyone else’s job to fix what’s broken in him. Only he can decide to accept the help offered, or to move on. I spoke up out of concern for Minfilia.”

Urianger looked like he was about to say something, but was interrupted by loud cheering noises. Viana turned her head back to the crowd. In front of them, a symbol of hope jerked to life once more and started lumbering along the trolley tracks. Miners were hooting and hollering, their energy infectious enough to bring a smile to her face, despite the storm lingering in her heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can barely write coherently in english as it is, so Urianger is a whole other level of headscratcher.


	9. Crossroads (SHB, MSQ 77)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kung-fu grandpa once again derails the plot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to stop picking at these word files, ahah.

Of course it’d all go wrong at the last step of their journey.

Viana grimaced as she rolled over onto her front, the cloud of dust around her making her choke on the air. Armor or not, she’d certainly have a bruise on her back from her gunblade after that tumble. Thankfully, the adrenaline kicking into her system made away with any confusion left from their sudden trip through the air and subsequent reintroduction to the ground.

Spitting out some dirt, her attention instantly snapped to Ran’jit as she pushed herself up on her knees. By Rhalgr’s balls, he was almost as bad as Zenos. Or Elidibus, rather. Couldn’t people have the common courtesy of just staying dead anymore.

“You’re a stubborn old swine, aren’t you…” Thancred growled as he picked himself up from the ground.

The Eulmoran general seemed nonplussed, barely sparing him a glance. “One who has mastered Gukumatz fears not the blackest pit or the fieriest hell. Your deeds in the east did not go unnoticed. Long have I lain in wait, and sure enough, you did not disappoint.”

His eyes swept over the three of them. “Had you only sworn fealty to Lord Vauthry, you would have no cause to skulk about like frightened animals.”

Sure, hard to skulk when you’re dead or in chains. Viana glanced at Thancred, at his hands more specifically. He hadn’t moved or made any signal for her to indicate that he had a plan of action ready to go. She could just attack, tell him to get Minfilia and make it for the city ruins while she held Ran’jit off.

Minfilia suddenly stirring caught Ran’jit’s attention. “You will remain as you are, while I dispatch of these villains.”

“No! I won’t…! I won’t let you!”

There was a moment of stunned silence at Minfilia’s outburst. Then anger instantly washed over Ran’jit’s face, his cool façade broken. “You forget to whom you speak!” he barked. “Who armed you? Trained you? Fought and killed a thousand sin eaters with you!?” His expression softened, turning surprisingly sorrowful. “And when you were inevitably cut down and lay lifeless in my arms – who sought out your successor to carry on the futile struggle again and again!?”

The genuine pain in his voice took Viana by surprise. A small pang of sympathy accompanied it, but in the back of her mind, the irony of it all was not lost on her. Maybe loss and grief had driven Ran’jit’s actions, and yet he spoke of and seemed to grieve Minfilias of the past. The actions he declared as proof of his bond to this Minfilia, did not apply to him. Who indeed had armed her, trained her, fought and killed numerous sin eaters by her side? Who there had that bond with this incarnation of the Oracle? 

Viana wished Thancred would speak up, yet he remained infuriatingly silent. He, who’d spirited Minfilia away from the gilded cage that Ran’jit had put her in, he who had that supposed bond with this incarnation, yet mourned the Oracle’s original, mortal form all the same, and let that grief cloud his every interaction with her.

It was like a twisted mirror reflection, and that poor girl was caught in the middle of it all. The sudden urge to laugh bitterly was overwhelming. The gods sure were cruel with their tricks.

The momentary sorrow was brief though, and Ran’jit’s expression grew cold and determined once more as he glared at Thancred, then Viana. “We seek to bring peace to what is left of this shattered land, while these mad fools would only bring further chaos down upon us!” Turning once more to Minfilia, he continued. “Do not be deceived, child! Only by lord Vauthry’s hand will this dying world know a sliver of salvation!”

“I don’t know about this world… but I never asked to be saved!”

Ran’jit’s eyes widened as Minfilia sat up, her hand clutching her shoulder.

“And those ‘mad fools’ you want me to abandon?” she continued, her voice growing louder and stronger. “The ones I’ve travelled with, fought with, and may one day die with – they feel the same. So no, I will not be deceived! No matter what you say, I refuse to believe it’s all for nothing!” 

Despite their situation, a proud smile crept upon Viana’s lips at the sound of sheer defiance in Minfilia’s voice. There was the spark she’d hoped for and so wished to see burst into flame.

“They’re everything to me,” Minfilia continued as she stood to her feet. “All I have and all I need. And I would gladly do anything for them.” Pulling herself up to her full height, she stared down Ran’jit. “Let us pass, or kill me. I’m not leaving here without them.”

Rage twisted Ran’jit’s face, the scars marking his features making them appear harder and crueller for it. “How dare you!” he snarled viciously. The heat in his eyes made Viana tense up in preparation for what surely was to come. “Very well – if you would cast your lot with villains, then you shall share their fate!”

The moment Ran’jit sunk into a ready battle stance, his eyes still fixed on Minfilia, Viana sprang to her feet and towards her. From the opposite direction, there was a flash of white. Her arms closed around Minfilia, pulling her smaller frame back against her chest just as Thancred intercepted the intended blow from the other direction.

Ran’jit kicked off from his blade to land several feet away, glaring as Thancred pointedly put himself in front of Minfilia, shielding her from their foe.

So this was how it would be then. Viana loosened her hold on Minfilia to draw her gunblade, just in case, but kept a hand on her shoulder in silent support.

“I heard what you said,” Thancred spoke without taking his eyes off Ran’jit. “And I’m sorry for all the things I’ve left unspoken.” He squared his shoulders, clearly ready for a fight. “You have to go. Now!”

Minfilia took a small step forward. “Thancred, no-!”

“Go! Do what you came here to do. I’ll not have you waste that newfound resolve on me.”

Viana could feel Minfilia tremble under her hand, and she gave her shoulder a comforting squeeze, all while pushing down her own distress and heartbreak at the pain clear in their voices. For a moment, her eyes lingered on Thancred’s back, her own frustrations and anger for his behaviour melting away in favour of the ill-advised love she’d carried for him for longer than she probably knew. To see this whole ordeal come to such a catastrophic point for him and Minfilia was overwhelming. Thancred was strong. And stubborn. But…

“I leave her in your hands. Hurry!”

The sharp tone of his voice was enough to make her shove the turmoil of her feelings to the side and focus on the present. With a swift motion, Viana unloaded the unspent cartridges in her gunblade. “Get ready to run Minfilia,” she murmured to the girl before crossing the distance to Thancred in a quick stride. “Need them more than I do,” she said quietly as she quickly pressed the cartridges into the palm of his free hand. He didn’t look at her, but his fingers squeezed hers as he closed his hand around them. “Give him hell.”

The only response he gave was a slight nod before she let go and he tucked away the cartridges in his coat.

She glanced at Ran’jit, a dull sense of fury flashing through her system at his constant interference and the pain he’d caused, before hurrying back to Minfilia. Though her expression was determined, Viana could see the fear in those ethereal blue eyes. “Go!”

Minfilia squared her jaw and gave her a resolute nod before turning around and setting off in a run towards the path to Ashiee.

“If you die, I’ll kill you myself, Thancred!” Viana yelled over her shoulder as she sprinted after the young girl. After the scare Y’shtola had given them, she was over and done with any of her friends trying to sacrifice themselves, not when she’d just found them again. Damn it all, they were going to save the First, prevent another calamity from hitting the Source, then find a way for them all to go home together, young Minfilia included.

Home, back to Tataru, Krile and the rest of the Scions.

There was the rushing sound of movement behind them, and her senses screamed for her to turn and face the attack, to shield Minfilia from it, but she kept the course and trusted in Thancred. True enough, there was the heavy, tell-tale noise of fighters clashing.

“Don’t look, keep going!” she called out to Minfilia when she saw her steps slow. Despite the urge to do so, she didn’t look back either, but heard Thancred’s snarled challenge to Ran’jit well enough.

“Will he be alright?” Minfilia gasped as Viana caught up to her side. The sounds of the ensuing battle followed them as they bolted up the mountain slope, the loose rocks slippery under their feet.

“I’ve lost that fool three times so far, and he’s found his way back each time,” Viana replied as firmly as she could. “He’s a survivor, and he’ll be waiting for _you_ after this.” Despite the conviction in her voice, worry gnawed at her. Ran’jit was powerful, and a part of her feared how far Thancred was willing to go to end this, especially with the turmoil in his heart. If only Urianger had stayed with them…

Gods, let this not turn into a tragedy of a different kind than what she’d initially feared.

\----

They didn’t slow until they were well past the gates to the ruined city. It wasn’t far, but the heat and terrain left them both winded from the run,

“Are you okay?” Viana asked in between breaths as Minfilia doubled over with her hands on her knees.

After drawing a deep breath and exhaling, Minfilia straightened her back and nodded. “I’m fine.”

Giving her a fond smile, Viana put a hand on her shoulder. It broke her heart to see someone so young thrust into a position such as this one. There were days when she felt qualms about the situations she led Alphinaud and Alisaie into, and yet it’d been their choice to embark onto their paths as Scions. Hopefully, this would be Minfilia’s chance to take the reins of her fate in her own hands. “I know I’m not the one who should be with you in this moment,” she said softly, “but whatever you choose to do, whatever path you decide upon, I’m with you all the way to end of the line.”

A reflection of the same worry for Thancred still lodged in Viana’s heart flittered across Minfilia’s features, before her expression relaxed and she gave a small, grateful smile.

“Thank you, I am glad you’re here with me.”

Together, they continued inside the ruins. It seemed familiar, from what hazy impressions there’d been of it in Thancred’s memory that the Echo had showed her.

“This is the place: Ashiee. This is where she stopped the Flood.” There was a tremble of trepidation to Minfilia’s voice as she spoke. “The last time I was here, when I felt her presence overwhelming me… I tried to pretend it wasn’t happening – to just… turn away.” There was a pause as her steps faltered a little, but then she continued on. “But I can’t turn away now. Not this time. For Thancred and the others, I have to face her.”

As they got closer to the main structure, something pressed at the edges of Viana’s consciousness. Frowning, she tried to focus on it. It felt familiar, warm and soothing.

“I can feel her presence, albeit faintly,” Minfilia spoke up from her side. “Come, let’s check by the crystal wall.”

Together, they stepped into the shadows of the great vaulted gateway.

Due to the memory Viana had witnessed through the Echo of when Thancred had brought Minfilia there, she’d expected this meeting between the Oracle and the young girl to not be something she would witness herself. What precisely she’d expected to happen, she was not sure, but the sudden onslaught of the Echo submerging her in the memory from the Flood came as shock. Seeing and feeling the panic and horror of that moment, capitalised by Ardbert’s confusion, hurt and anger at being denied the apparent chance of redemption like his comrades… it was just another raw wound on an already emotionally draining day.

And that was why she was entirely unprepared to actually see her old friend again. Tears welled up in her eyes at the sight of those familiar features. One hundred years may have passed in the First, but for Viana it had not even been a year since Minfilia had departed with the Warriors of Darkness.

But, as much as she longed to speak with Minfilia, the antecedent of the Scions, again, to seek her counsel, she bit her tongue and stood aside as a silent witness to what unfolded before her. As she watched them converse, her entire being felt like a tangle of grief for the woman the Scions had lost, fear for the man she’d just left behind with an enemy who’d bested them both in the past, and concern for whether the young girl who did not ask for any of this would cling to that fragile spark of defiance and choose to walk her own path in life.

In the end, perhaps her concerns had been unfounded. Viana felt pride and relief swell in her chest as Minfilia requested the Oracle’s powers for her own, so that she could stand with Thancred and the rest of the Scions, and help those who needed it.

A light began to bloom from the two women as the Oracle spoke her final words of comfort to her young counterpart. “If ever you should falter, remember this: no one, however powerful, is immune to the whisperings of doubt and despair. Do not give in to them, but do not deny them either. Look instead to the light within, that you may continue to serve as a beacon to others.”

Despite the words not being intended for her, Viana closed her eyes for a moment as she felt them soothe her soul none the less. It made her miss Minfilia, the antecedent, all the more. She always knew how to pick others up and inspire them. It was hard to live up to her memory. All the worse for their young Minfilia, forever stuck in her shadow. Until now.

“Thank you, Minfilia, for believing in us. For believing in me.”

Viana watched as the Oracle leaned forward and pressed her lips to the young girl’s forehead. The light that had been gathering around them grew and swirled as she straightened back up, nearly obscuring them entirely.

Then Oracle’s ethereal blue eyes once more met Viana’s gaze, her expression serene. “Viana… Dearest friend… no words can express my gratitude to you for keeping her safe in these tumultuous times. You are a hero to us both.”

The praise felt wasted on her. It should have been Thancred here in her stead, but she bit back the urge to argue against it. “Thank you for everything, Minfilia. We will all keep your legacy going,” she instead responded softly. Their time was running out, she could feel the stability of the world around them ebbing away as surely as the light around the two women grew in intensity.

The Oracle’s expression softened further into a solemn smile. “I know you will. But know this; not even the most valiant of heroes can stand alone,” she continued. “Only together may you change the fate of two worlds.”

Confused, Viana frowned while squinting against the bright light that swelled to fill her vision. “What-?”

\----

The sand under her cheek was hot. Groaning, Viana picked herself up off the ground. Her head swam, probably as much from the fall to the ground as the strain from whatever the Oracle had done to converse with them both. The confusion of her passing words still lingered, but then realization hit Viana like a rockslide, and her heart leapt up in her throat as her eyes cast about for Minfilia. Lying a little bit off from her, she spotted the girl’s white clad form on the ground and hurried over. She could ask Y’shtola and Urianger about the Oracle’s words later.

As she got closer, her eyes widened at the sight before her. Long blonde hair had been replaced by a warm copper tone that shimmered in the unnatural light from the sky. Questions of ‘how’ swirled in Viana’s head as she knelt by the smaller girl’s side. “Hey, Minfilia,” she gently called out as she shook her shoulder.

To her relief, the girl stirred with a groan.

“Easy there…” Viana murmured as she put an arm around her shoulders to help her sit up.

“What happened?” Minfilia mumbled with her head still downcast as she rubbed at her eyes. “I remember talking to Minfilia… and then…” She looked up at Viana and blinked owlishly.

The shock she felt must have been written plain on her face, for Minfilia’s normal, blue-grey eyes widened in alarm. “Is something wrong?”

The stunned surprise made way for happiness, and with a soft laugh, Viana shook her head. “Not at all.” She reached into her bag to procure a small pocket mirror she kept at hand for signals and to look around corners – one of the tricks she’d picked up from Thancred and Riol over the past years - and held it up for Minfilia to see her own reflection in the polished surface. “Seems like the Oracle gave you a parting gift.”

Minfilia hesitated for a moment, and then took the mirror from her hands, for the moment lost in its reflection. Viana let her take her time, watching with a fond sense of contentment. She could not even begin to imagine the feelings Minfilia must be experiencing at that moment. To finally look like her own person, and not the echo of the woman in whose shadow she’d been her whole life.

“My own path…”

Upon hearing Minfilia’s quiet words, a thought crossed her mind and she frowned. They really should give her a different name, or find out what she was called before she was taken to Eulmore. To her, it’d felt weird to start with, but now it’d just be highly inappropriate to keep calling her ‘Minfilia’.

“What’s wrong?”

The soft question stirred Viana out of her thoughts and she smiled down at Minfilia again. “Nothing, just thinking. How are you feeling?”

“I feel… good.” A small smile spread on her lips. “I can still feel her, even though she’s gone… Warm and calm and gentle.” Her eyes closed in concentration as her demeanour grew more serious and her brow creased. “I can feel the beating heart of the world, the Light that swells within it.”

Right, she’d suddenly have full access to the Oracle’s powers now.

“Take your time to get your bearings,” Viana murmured.

It didn’t take long before Minfilia snapped her eyes open again. “The Lightwardens. There’s one here in Amh Araeng, I found it.”

“Then let’s go find the others,” Viana replied as she began to stand up. She was eager to see their second task in this region finished, and by now Urianger must surely have found and brought the others to this area. Ran’jit couldn’t possibly withstand all of them at once.

Determination took over Minfilia’s face as she nodded in agreement and followed suit, but as Viana started walking, she lingered behind.

Noticing that she didn’t follow, Viana turned to ask if she was hurt. But instead, she took in her downcast look and the mirror she was still clutching in her hands. At once concerned, she stepped back and knelt in front of her, searching for her gaze. “What’s wrong?”

Minfilia didn’t meet her eyes, and instead chewed her bottom lip. “… You don’t think Thancred will be angry with me, do you?”

Her voice was so soft and hesitant that it broke Viana’s heart all over again. “Oh darling,” Viana murmured as she closed her hands around Minfilia’s. “He stayed behind to let you do this, he’ll understand. It was what Minfilia wanted, for you to be allowed to make this choice on your own.”

Slowly, Minfilia nodded, but didn’t look up.

“We don’t have to hurry right back, we can walk at your pace,” Viana offered.

She received another nod in response.

“Then take your time, think things over.” She stood back up and rubbed Minfilia’s back, her thoughts straying towards Thancred as she looked out over their surroundings. At least she hoped she was right. “Twelve be my witness, if he gets angry I swear I’ll leave him at Titania’s mercy,” she mumbled under her breath.

“What did you say?”

“Oh nothing.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know how scholar, white mage and dragoon players feel, but both that duty and the Hien vs Zenos one had me chomping at the bit in pure "c'mon, I know this job, lemme at him with all the abilities" mood. ... but then that may have been partly because it was Zenos and Ran'jit and I just wanted the satisfaction of Hien and Thancred getting to sink full on Hissatsu and cartridge combos into their respective opponent.


	10. Fall with me (Thancred/WoL)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Near death experiences may come with perspective changes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahahaha, well, here we are. I feel super rusty writing this sort of stuff.
> 
> Ah, I felt weirded out by Thancred not getting the final kill on Ran'jit so...

As far as happy moments went, seeing Thancred not just alive and victorious after his fight with Ran’jit, but also readily accepting of Minfilia’s – _Ryne’s_ \- decision and his role in her life by granting her a new name, it certainly went somewhere to the top of Viana’s list of such moments.

But then, perhaps she was a bit biased in this case. Just a little.

It was a relief to see some of the pain gone from his eyes, and his smile more earnest than she’d recalled for a long time as he traded retorts with Urianger and Y’shtola.

“Well, I suppose all that is left is to slay the Lightwarden then,” Alisaie spoke up as her eyes fell on Ryne. “Got any leads, for us?”

Ryne nodded. “It’s hiding down in the well to the west.”

“Ah, I suspected as much after surveying the site,” Y’shtola commented with a thoughtful look on her face. “We best make haste then, for it’s bound to be a large space to search. I also doubt the eulmorans will be happy when they find Ran’jit’s body.”

There were several nods of agreement, and they all seemed to ready themselves to move on. 

Except Thancred, who cleared his throat and looked at the others. “If you may, Ryne, could you lead them ahead? I’d like to have a quick word with Viana first.”

Viana paused midstep and turned to eye him curiously as he gave Ryne a reassuring smile.

“Alright,” Ryne responded with a nod before starting to walk off towards the other end of the abandoned settlement.

Urianger seemed to exchange a look with Thancred, something unspoken passing between them, before a small smile spread on his lips as he gave what seemed like a nod of approval. Without another word, he turned to walk beside Ryne.

“Fine,” Y’shtola acquiesced a sigh. She observed them both with a look in her pale eyes that made Viana feel like she’d just gotten caught doing something she wasn’t supposed to. “But don’t take too long, you two.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Thancred huffed.

Beside Y’shtola, Alisaie snorted and rolled her eyes. “Oh, somehow I highly doubt that,” she drawled. Alphinaud furrowed his brow and looked like he was about to ask what she meant with it, but he was cut off by her grabbing him by the back of his jacket. 

“He-hey!” he protested as she dragged him with her.

Sparing them another glance, Y’shtola turned to follow the twins, leaving Viana alone with Thancred. They watched quietly as their friends disappeared down a path at the other end of the settlement.

“I take it you’re done running?” she finally asked softly to break the silence hanging over them.

Exhaling, Thancred nodded. “I… think so, yes.”

At that, Viana smiled. “I’m glad to hear it.” Then she cocked her head to the side and crossed her arms. “So, what was it you wished to speak about?”

To her surprise, he didn’t immediately look at her, instead keeping his head turned in the direction of where their friends had gone. 

Slightly confused at his silence, she frowned and wet her lips. “If it’s an apology you’re after for before-“

“No,” he interjected as he finally turned to face her. “No, I’m not.”

Viana blinked in surprise. “Alright then…?”

There was something in his eyes that she couldn’t place, an intensity she’d never really seen before. It made her feel exposed. Her heart skipped a few more beats than was probably healthy as a nervous energy skittered through her limbs, and she shifted her weight about.

“I realised that Ryne wasn’t the only one I’d left things unsaid with,” Thancred explained as he took a few slow steps to bridge the distance between them, almost as if he thought she’d startle like an animal at any abrupt motions.

Oh. She froze, her mouth going dry. Unable to meet his eyes any longer, she looked down as he stopped far enough away from her to not be directly in her personal space. “If this is about what I said back in Twine…”

He hummed in affirmation.

With her thoughts instantly scattering in ten different directions at once, she wasn’t sure what to say. She’d spoken those words in the heat of the moment, and while she meant them, that did not mean she thought he’d pay any attention to them. Not when there had been, and still was, so much else, much more important things going on. But then, with his past, he was probably used to abrupt ‘I love you’s from whomever he’d last swept of their feet. 

And probably just as used to nipping anything of that sort in the bud.

Yes, that’s what this probably was about. Ryne, and the Lightwardens, was his top priority. Now was not the time for distractions and muddled messages. Instantly feeling like her muscles were wound tight like a spring, she bit her lip. Gods, words were not her strong suit and her own history in this regard hardly involved many partners to start with. Life on the road was no place for romance and the trust required to let someone that close had been hard currency to come by for the entirety of her life.

And whatever brief ‘relationships’ there’d been, it’d certainly been nothing as tangled as… this.

Taking a deep breath to steady her jittery nerves before she raised her eyes, Viana hoped her voice wouldn’t betray her as she spoke. “Look, you do not have to say anything; I am not some love-struck lass expecting more after a quick tumble or one of your other ex-paramours,” she rambled out while keeping her gaze fixed somewhere over his shoulder. “I value our friendship, and our working relationship, so… just forget what I said? You do not have cause to worry; it will not be a problem.” Swallowing around the lump in her throat, she managed a smile and began to walk past him. “Come, let’s go find this Lightwar -“

Barely did she make it past him before a strong arm shot out and grabbed her around the waist, pulling her back to face him. The startled noise she made was cut off by his lips crashing against hers, the hand not gripping her waist coming up to cradle her jaw as he held her flush against his chest. Shocked, she froze like a statue. But then it all ebbed away as her eyes fell shut and she curled her fingers into the fabric of his battle-damaged coat, melting into his embrace as she hesitantly responded to the kiss.

Thancred instantly made a noise of approval, a rumble low in his throat. “Now who’s running, my dear,” he murmured against her lips, the low timbre of his voice and the familiar endearment sending a shiver straight down her spine, all while she wanted to laugh at having her words turned against her. It was the first time he’d called her that since they’d arrived to the First. Before she had a chance to reply the arm around her waist tightened as he slanted his mouth over hers again, his fingers digging into her hip as he seemed intent on kissing her breath away.

She felt lightheaded from it all, disbelief mingling with contentment and joy. Letting him take the lead, she simply buried a hand in his messy hair, the other still grasping his coat. A playful nip at her bottom lip drew a gasp from her, the apologetic swipe of his tongue that followed a question for permission that she was willing to grant. And one he was most eager to accept, pulling her with him into a more heated embrace.

Oh gods, it was unfair how good he was, somehow knowing precisely how to make her heart race and knees go weak. It was almost enough for her to forgot where they were, and the pressing task at hand.

Almost.

With a soft moan, Viana turned her head enough to break off the kiss. They lingered with their foreheads pressed together as they caught their breaths.

“I should have done that on that damn roof,” Thancred sighed, seemingly more to himself than her. His thumb brushed against her cheek, before he relaxed his hold on her waist. There was an invitation to withdraw if she wished to, his touch light as he let his hands settle on her hips instead.

Rather than step away from him, Viana merely straightened her back to gaze down at him, the hand she’d had in his hair falling to rest with the other on his chest. What she was searching for in his expression she wasn’t sure, yet the openly tender look was not what she expected, despite what’d just happened. Questions whirled in her mind, second-guessing everything about the past few minutes. For how long? Why now? What did this change between them? Was it something casual, driven by just lust, or…?

There must have been traces of her doubt and confusion on her face, because a solemn smile tugged at his lips. “I know my history,” he said quietly. “I did not want to act on these feelings, not… admit to myself what they meant.” Sighing, he closed his eyes and lowered his head, brow creased in a slight frown. “And I did not think I was worthy of standing by your side in that sense to start with. Not when you had people of higher standing and with less ugly pasts than I, who seemed ready to do so at the drop of a pin if you’d so let them.”

The sincerity in his voice broke her heart, at the same time as the confession made her chest swell with warmth that rushed out into her limbs.

“But I want to be someone worthy to guide Ryne and look after her, and perhaps I can be worthy of that place at your si-“

Instead of letting him finish, Viana cradled his jaw and pressed her lips to his. He inhaled sharply, his grip on her tightening as if he thought she’d disappear he did not hold on tight enough. It was a slower, more restrained kiss, simmering with feelings they’d both apparently tried to ignore and bury. And damn her armour, she wanted to actually feel his touch.

When they broke apart again she swallowed thickly before she met his eyes. “I meant what I said,” she said softly and with as much sincerity as she possibly could. Her heart felt like it’d risk bursting out of her ribcage at any moment. “I love you, and I don’t need you to say the same right this moment. You are my friend, and I trust you with my life. I want this, if you do. I want _you_.”

“I do want this,” he replied earnestly. There was an echo of the charming bard in his grin then; the one who’d winked and flirted with her at every turn when she had joined the Scions, whose verbal games she’d found amusing to engage in, if otherwise wholly uninteresting to actually follow up on.

How things could change.

Unable to resist it, she gave him another quick kiss. “That said, as much as I’d love to continue this…”

Thancred made a noise in agreement, even as he chased after her for another brief brush of their lips. “We should get going…”

The heat in his eyes made her face burn, and she caressed his cheek, wiping away some traces of dirt in the process, before they somewhat reluctantly drew apart and separated. “Not sure I’d live through Y’shtola coming back to drag us along,” she laughed quietly. Already she missed the weight and warmth of his embrace.

“Oh Twelve,” he groaned, “Neither would I.”

They shared a look, a silent agreement to speak further when the time was better, and began walking after their friends, arms brushing.

“Maybe let me take the lead through the well, hm?”

“I assure you, I’m fine, Urianger and Y’shtola did all they could.”

“Humour me, please.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If I were more comfortable writing Urianger, I'd lean into this wonderful friendship and have him be all "don't make my mistake, spit it out already" to Thancred. One day, maybe. Because man am I into them parallels.


	11. Morning light (Thancred/WoL SHB)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Awkward moment you start writing morning after fluff but then that one headcanon gets in the way, and you get the Praetorium for several days in a row when doing the roulette and it all turns a bit angsty and you're not sure where you're going with it anymore. *sad trombone noises*
> 
> Edit: I posted the smut preceding this as a standalone fic.

How long had it been since he last woke up in a bed not his own, the sheets tangled around his waist his only preservation of modesty and with an equally nude body next to him? He could honestly not recall for sure. There was a vague memory, blurred by alcohol, of someone, a willing distraction, in the year after he’d arrived at the First and the frustration with lack of finding a way back to the Source, coupled with the loneliness without his friends and family had become too much to bear.

An undignified return to old habits. A quick tumble followed by a hasty exit.

Not something like now, where Thancred felt content enough to remain sprawled out on his back as he slowly blinked the sleep from his eyes and took stock of his surroundings. The early traces of morning light was filtering in from the window, casting the room in a soft glow. At his side, Viana was still asleep. She was lying on her stomach, facing away from him, with the covers bunched around her waist.

The memories of the prior evening brought a comfortable, warm feeling to his chest, along with a sense of belonging. Not even five years had managed to erode what he felt for her, try as he may have to forget about it. And it was a relief to finally allow himself to acknowledge those feelings. He wanted to stay here, with her.

It felt like a stark contrast to how, for most his life, this had been the point where he’d get up, silently get dressed and gather his things, before slipping out the door, often never to see whoever it was he’d woken up next to ever again. Even with those few, likeminded souls he’d had brief, recurring entanglements of decidedly mutual benefit with over the years, there’d never been any lingering sentiments once the sun crept back up over the horizon.

And with that realisation, Thancred felt a tiny bit lost as to what to do. Slowly, carefully as to not disturb her, he rolled over on his side. A small, sharp pang of misery cut through the otherwise pleasant warmth of his feelings as his eyes roamed over her back. It was hard to miss the larger scar at the middle of her back. It stood out amongst the other, more normal looking pale lines left by blades or other sharp instruments.

Despite that chilled feeling - or perhaps more because of it - there was an itch in his fingers to touch her. To pull her to his chest so he could press his nose against the back of her neck and scatter kisses to her shoulder while his hands got reacquainted with the curves of her body. Maybe hear that quiet, soft laughter as she woke up, followed by a sleepy good-morning. And yet, he hesitated, his hand remaining firmly planted against the bed between them. After the heated touches they’d shared the evening prior, it was ridiculous of him, and he knew it. In the wake of it all, comfortable as he’d been, it’d felt so easy and natural to wrap his arm around her so why did he hesitate now? 

This quiet intimacy… Desperate, heated caresses and embraces in the throes of passion, those he was familiar with. As was he with the calculated, measured touches meant to tempt and seduce. This, just touching her because he wanted to feel her, to show his earnest affection for her… it felt new and unfamiliar.

Judging by the slow rise and fall of her back, she was still deep asleep. Maybe he should just quietly leave, and let her have her rest? But, he’d told her that he wasn’t going anywhere. As he turned over his options in his head, his eyes went once more to the scar by the side of her back.

Perhaps just to distract himself for a moment, he reached out with his hand and ghosted his fingers over part of it. It was barely the width of one of his fingers, the edge of the knotted ribbon of tissue reaching from the curve of her ribs to just shy of her spine. It looked like the scar from a burn, but there was a sharp middle line to it and decisiveness to the angle that suggested a cut. That he’d missed the rough texture under his fingertips the prior evening, he could only chalk up to the heat of the moment.

A sudden, nagging fear cut through all his other thoughts then to settle in his chest like a piece of cold ice. If it was a wound from magic, could it have been indirectly caused by his hand, so long ago when she’d fought Lahabrea?

Sifting through his memories, he tried to remember anything from the aftermath of his liberation from the Ascian’s control that indicated she’d been injured there. But his recollections were so hazy from the fatigued, confused state he’d been in for the days afterwards. Swallowing thickly, he laid his hand flat against the scar, as if it’d magically dispel his fears on its own volition, his thumb tracing a bit that he could not cover.

Instead, he froze as he felt her grow very still, her breath held on an inhale.

“Forgive me,” he spoke quietly. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

Instantly, Viana exhaled and relaxed once more into the bed. “No, I’m sorry,” she murmured, her voice rough with sleep, as she shifted her weight to her other side so she could turn her head to look at him. “Not used to waking up with someone else in my bed.” There was a warm, content smile on her face, and by all rights, he should have been taken in with the loving look in her hooded eyes. The dual desire to pull her into his arms and the crippling fear that’d suddenly wormed its way into his mind left him floundering for a moment. Something in his expression must’ve betrayed the intrusive thoughts, for she frowned in concern and slowly pushed her weight up on her elbows. “Something wrong?”

His hand still lingered at her back, still covering the scar. “No, I’m just…” he trailed off, unsure how to continue. ‘Did I give you that scar?’ seemed like a dumb thing to ask and a sure way to ruin the warm mood still lingering over them.

Especially if she confirmed his fears.

“Thancred, talk to me,” Viana urged gently as she shuffled closer and rested a hand on his cheek.

Well, he was probably well on his way to ruin it already. Thancred’s fingers twitched against her skin. “The scar,” he quietly replied.

Viana frowned in confusion, until she briefly looked towards her back, as if realising where his hand was resting. “It’s from Nidhogg, when he was possessing Estinien. Turns out dravanian aether infused lance slashes leaves a mark.”

Relief washed over him as he let go of a breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding. Estinien. The dragoon from Ishgard that he’d never had the chance to meet properly. The one she and Alphinaud had travelled with while he was stuck in the Lifestream, who had been possessed by the great black wyrm and forced to fight against his own people. 

Estinien, who had plucked her from the jaws of death when she had been forced to face the Ascian wearing a dead prince’s skin all on her own.

“Does it…the scar… bother you?” Viana asked quietly. There was a flicker of… something in her eyes, a look of insecurity as she diverted her gaze from his. At that sight, Thancred threw his own doubts to the side in favour of decisively pulling her closer, rolling her over onto her back as he pushed himself up on his elbow.

He ran fingers through her hair before he leaned down to brush his lips to hers in a brief kiss. “No, it does not,” he replied firmly, before pressing his lips to hers. Her arms wound their way around his shoulders as she pulled him closer, deepening the kiss. She felt so warm and welcoming as he melted into her arms.

But, when they broke apart for air, he wet his lips nervously. “Does he know?”

“Do who know?”

“Estinien… about the scar?”

Viana’s hands slid from his back to touch to his jaw, coaxing him to pull back enough to meet her eyes. She studied him for a moment, concern evident in her murky green eyes. Most likely wondering why in the seven hells he seemed so insistent on inquiring about another man when they were bed together.

“Thancred, what is this about?”

He swallowed, all at once feeling foolish for the fears that still lingered. It’d been something he’d wondered over in the past, briefly, especially in the immediate aftermath of the whole thing. Yet, it wasn’t until now, when he’d been presented with her bare body that the fear seemed to have taken root completely in his mind. The thought that any of the marks on her skin might have been done by his hand… it sent a sick feeling curling through his stomach.

Turning his head, he closed his eyes and nuzzled against one of her hands. “I… was afraid it might have been from Lahabrea. From me.”

Viana went still. “Oh.” For a moment, she was quiet. “Thancred, please look at me.”

He did as she asked, meeting her gaze once more. It was steady, but held the same gentle affection as a mere couple of days ago in Amh Araeng when she’d repeated to him that she did love him, and wanted him by her side.

“Listen to me,” she spoke slowly, her intonations firm. “I have one mark from that fight.” It felt like the air had forcibly been sucked out of his lungs, accompanied by an intense nausea. But Viana made a soothing noise while caressing his cheeks with her thumbs as if trying to ease the turmoil in his chest.

One of her hands left his face to grab hold of his as she shifted enough to free her right leg from the covers. In his mind, he’d expected something large, gruesome, somewhere where he would somehow have missed it up until now. To his surprise, she instead guided his hand to a barely two ilm long mark on her thigh, one he must have run his fingers over countless times the evening prior while pleasuring her with his mouth.

“A glancing blow from a spell. Armour caught the worst of it.”

Thancred covered the mark with his thumb, rubbing it. He wasn’t sure how to feel about it.

“I know I could have lied and said I had none,” she spoke softly and he looked back at her. Uncertainty flittered across her expression. “But I thought it best to just be honest...”

Sighing, he wrapped his arms around her and hugged her close, pressing the entire length of his body to hers, as he rested his forehead against hers. “No,” he said quietly. “I appreciate your honesty.”

Viana made a quiet noise, resting her leg against his hip as her fingers caressed his arm. It didn’t take much coaxing for her to roll him over onto his back. Propping herself up on her elbow, she looked down on him, so excruciatingly soft, understanding, loving and beautiful in the low morning light and gods, Thancred was not sure what he had done in life to deserve her affections.

“And I’ll tell you what I’d tell Estinien, were he to somehow find out about that scar, and for some reason felt responsibility for it,” she spoke softly while slowly running her fingers through his hair, brushing it back from his eyes. It was soothing, despite the old guilt for leaving himself vulnerable to Lahabrea’s possession still curling in his stomach, fed by this new knowledge. Her fingertips ghosted over his cheek, before she leaned down to press her lips to his in an all too brief kiss. “It was not your fault. It was not your will behind that blow. So please, do not blame yourself, love.”

He clung to those reassuring words. Slowly, between small, gentle kisses, he managed to relax back against the bed. “I’ll try not to,” he finally replied.

“That’s all I can ask. Just… talk to me, if it bothers you, ever again.”

He could hear the hesitation in her voice, and understood that she worried whether she should just have spared him the truth, as small as it was. “I will,” he assured her. It would bother him, he knew that. But, she’d told him the truth out of good faith, and that she’d so readily reassure her friend over a much larger injury, put things a little in perspective. As she said, it was Lahabrea, not he who had cast the spell that’s marred her skin.

Skimming his hands up and down her back in a light caress, Thancred let himself just be content for the moment. She was alive, unharmed, and here, with him. Then a thought struck him. “I do hope you would not refer to Estinien as ‘love’ though,” he murmured with a teasing lilt to his voice. “Or is there something you need to tell me?”

Laughter shook her for a moment as she nuzzled her nose against his. “Worry not, I reserve that term only for the man in my bed at this very moment.”

The warm, fuzzy feeling returned to his chest. “Lucky fellow,” Thancred hummed as he let his hands slide down over the curve of her rear.

There was a surprised noise from her as he suddenly moved and flipped her over onto her back once more, her subsequent laughter muffled as he claimed her mouth in an eager kiss.

The sun was still low in the sky. They had a little bit of time before they’d be expected to be up and about.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh, I hate endings. I don't even know.


	12. Illness (Thancred/WoL, post-Heavensward)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Workaholic tendecies comes with consequences.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I dunno, just a dumb idea that struck me. Probably fits best somewhere towards the leadup to Stormblood.
> 
> As always, english isn't my first language, so you're welcome to point out any mistakes!

”Viana, no-!”

”Tataru, I swear I will step over you-”

“Oh you just try! You’ll have to… drag me out the door with you!”

Thancred frowned as he finished tying his bandana over his eye, what little remnants of sleep that still lingered over him instantly gone, as he drew close to the main room of the Rising Stones. The door was open, but it was early in the morning - far too early for the hushed, upset voices he heard.

The moment he entered, Tataru’s eyes snapped to him. “Thancred!” she exclaimed, the desperate relief evident on her face. “Thank the Twelve! Talk some sense into her!”

He raised an eyebrow as his uncovered eye went to Viana, who had her back to him. She was clad in her travel gear, with her heavy pack still hanging off her shoulder, axe included. It’d been nearly a week since she’d last been back to the Stones, but by the looks of it, Tataru, with her arms spread wide, was barring her way from leaving once more.

“A little early to upset Tataru, is it not, Viana?” he asked as he walked closer to them.

“It’s nothing,” Viana responded over her shoulder.

He was put on edge by the obvious strain to her voice - like she was trying to force herself to sound normal.

“It’s not nothing!” Tataru exclaimed, clearly upset. “She’s sick!”

“I’m fine!” Viana interjected, a bit more forceful than he’d have expected her to.

“No, she’s not!” Tataru was visibly pleading with him to do something. “If I hadn’t been here, she would have just left again, like _this_!” She waved an arm, gesturing towards Viana.

Reaching out a hand, he put it on Viana’s shoulder. “Come now, surely you can rest for a bit.”

She didn’t look at him, instead tensing under his touch. “I can rest later, I need to-“

“Viana, please!” Tataru interrupted.

She looked as if to waver for a moment, but then shook her head. “It’s just a few things Tataru, I promise I’ll be back in a couple of days.” Shrugging off his hand, Viana stepped around Tataru. “Tell Alphinaud I left some documents from Azys Lla for him on my desk.”

“Hey!” Concern jolted Thancred into quickly following her, angling himself to block her way.

He instantly knew she indeed was not well when she just only barely managed to avoid walking right into him, her otherwise sharp reflexes slow and sluggish. There was a noticeable flush to her cheeks, and her eyes were unfocused as she frowned down at him.

“_I’m fine._”__

_ _“You do not look fine,” he responded firmly._ _

_ _She briefly glanced away. “It’s… just a cold, it looks worse than it is.”_ _

_ _When she quickly moved around him, he grabbed her arm to keep her from leaving. But, as the slight tug caused her to turn back towards him, he had split a second to register the suddenly blank look on her face. “Viana-“ he started, frowning with concern, just as her knees gave out from under her. His heart leapt up in his throat as he managed to wrap an arm around her waist, catching her before she hit the stone floor. But it was too sudden for him to brace properly or get a proper hold on her. Grunting under the strain of her dead weight, in addition to that of her pack, he fell to his knees with her in his arms._ _

_ _“Viana! Thancred!” Tataru exclaimed, quickly hurrying to their side. Viana was muttering something, her breath hot against his neck, as she weakly tried to push herself off of him._ _

_ _“Seven hells, Viana, don’t move,” he murmured sternly as he tightened his hold on her. When she stilled, he began pushing her pack off of her. Tataru quickly helped him, pulling it to the side and out of the way._ _

_ _Shifting his grip on Viana, Thancred kept one arm firmly around her so she wouldn’t try to sit up. But it seemed that whatever fight that had been left in her was gone. The memory of finding her collapsed at Falcon’s Nest, drugged, came back to him. And with it there was a sudden, horrifying thought that she might have somehow been poisoned. It was not like she lacked enemies, nor like she didn’t regularly walk into situations where one stray wound could be enough for something toxic to enter her system._ _

_ _Swallowing, Thancred cradled her cheek, forcing her to look at him. Her murky green eyes were dull and unfocused as she listlessly blinked up at him. But her pupils looked normal, not dilated or little pinpricks. Tugging down the high collar on her coat, he checked for any darkening of the veins at her neck, and then pressed a couple of fingers to her pulse. Her heart was hammering, as if she’d just stepped off the battlefield._ _

_ _“Thancred, what’s wrong?” Tataru fretted as she clasped one of Viana’s hands in hers smaller ones._ _

_ _“Not sure.” Frowning, Thancred swept Viana’s hair away from her eyes so he could put a hand to her forehead. The worry already lodged in his chest doubled at the feeling of her clammy, too hot skin under his fingers. “Thal’s balls, Viana, you’re burning up!”_ _

_ _Tataru made a concerned noise, her eyes darting about. “O-oh, I’ll- I’ll wake Y’shtola! And Krile!”_ _

_ _“No… let‘shtola rest… ‘s fine…dun disturb ‘rile,” Viana slurred out and tried to struggle once more against his grip. It was in vain though, which was just more of a testament for him to how ill she was. Finally giving up, she slumped back, her head on his shoulder as she drew quick, shallow breaths. “Just dizzy… ‘s fine.”_ _

_ _Biting back a sarcastic remark how dizziness was in no way ‘fine’, especially under these circumstances, Thancred met Tataru’s anxious gaze and gave her a curt nod. “Go get them. I’ll take her to the infirmary in the meantime.”_ _

_ _With a last, worried glance at Viana, Tataru hurried off, back through the door he’d came through._ _

_ _As her rapid footsteps faded, Thancred carefully moved Viana’s arms around his neck. “Viana? I’m going to lift you up, alright? So try to hold on,” he spoke quietly into her ear. There was a soft, acknowledging sound from her. He could feel her fingers weakly grasp at his back, her face tucked into the crook of his neck. With one arm under her knees and the other around her torso, Thancred carefully got back up to his feet. For a moment, he was grateful she was only wearing her greaves on her legs, rather than her full, bulky armour that’d just be in the way and add another handful of ponze to her weight._ _

_ _“This was not what I meant with all those quips about you falling into my arms,” he murmured in a feeble attempt at a jest as he began walking towards the infirmary._ _

_ _Much to his relief though, he felt a puff of hot air against his neck that he recognised as a weak laugh. At least she wasn’t completely delirious._ _

_ _“’m sorry, ‘hancred,” she mumbled. “Didn’ mean to cause worry…”_ _

_ _“Just rest, my dear,” he replied quietly. “I’ve got you.”_ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The last time I got sick I parked my car in the driveway after a early morning workshift I probably shouldn't have gone to and nearly fell asleep right there at the wheel due to the fever I'd gained.


	13. Nightmares born of the past (Thancred/WoL, post-SHB)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm gonna just toss this one out so I stop poking at it.

Thancred startled awake in a cold sweat, panting for breath as his hand automatically went for the hilt of the knife tucked under his pillow.

But just as his fingers touched the cool metal and leather, he realised where he was; that there was no dark-clad figure with a red mask lurking in the shadows, and that the sharp sounds were just the rain hitting the window - a rainstorm raging outside over Lakeland.

Letting out his breath in a harsh exhale, he tangled himself free of the covers and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. The cold stone floor under his bare feet felt grounding, giving him something to focus on while he tried to calm down his furiously hammering heart. But horror still lay knotted in his chest like shards of glass. It was both old fears, born of things years in the past and new ones brought on by recent events, twisted into one dark mess by his nightmares.

A small rustling sound behind him made him glance back, instantly worried he’d woken her up. But Viana was merely nestling deeper into her pillow, one hand outstretched towards the space he’d just so abruptly vacated, as if she was searching for him in her sleep. A small smile tugged at his lips, the sight of her curled up in his bed alleviating some of the fears in his heart. She was safe, and alive. They both were. And so were their friends, asleep in their own rooms within the safety of the Crystarium.

And yet his mind would not stop racing, even as the beat of his heart calmed. Sighing, he rested his head in his hands. 

As rare as it was these days, the old nightmare of the pain and panic brought on by Lahabrea’s possession of him and the events that had followed was bad enough on its own. But when piled on with the horrors he’d seen here in the First… the Sin Eaters, Minfilia’s fate, and how painfully close he’d come to losing everything and everyone he cared about for forever…

A tremor that had nothing to do with the chilly air shook his body. Even now, weeks later, a sour taste appeared in his mouth when the thought about how close the Ascians had come to winning. If it hadn’t been for Ardbert… It felt strange to feel such immense gratitude towards a man who he mostly remembered as an enemy from so many years ago. The fables told of the villainous ‘Warriors of Light’ in this world had been hard to reconcile with the desperate, grim-faced Warriors of Darkness they’d encountered on the Source.

And yet, by Viana’s own admission, it was only because Ardbert had added his strength to hers that she’d not succumbed to the light – that the axe she’d summoned to strike down Emet-Selch had been a manifestation of Ardbert’s soul, and not a weird coincidence with her many years of fighting with one herself. 

She’d lived, at the cost of his own lingering existence coming to an end.

The horrifying memory of the Light nearly overtaking her made nausea twist in Thancred’s stomach. In his nightmare there’d been white wings speckled with gold and a haunting, too dead-eyed to be serene look frozen on her smooth, plaster white face as she turned on the others, striking them down one by one. Not just those of them that the Exarch had brought here to the First – but also those who were still at the Source; F’lhammin… Tataru, Krile, Lyse… Riol and Arenvald… all the other Scions, powerless to stop her as she plunged two worlds into the Light.

All of them, felled by her blade.

Except him. 

He’d once more been bound under Lahabrea’s control and forced to watch… Helpless to do anything but scream into the void of his own mind as Emet-Selch and the other ascians gloated over her downfall. As unable to do anything to help then, as he’d felt when she’d collapsed at mt. Gulg.

“Hey…”

The quiet, drowsy voice behind him stirred him from his dark thoughts. There was the rustle of the sheets, then a careful touch to his back. It wasn’t until he shifted his weight into it, yearning the warm contact and feeling of her, that he felt her move closer.

Viana wound her arms around his midsection, pressing herself to his back, her body soft and warm even with the thin fabric of her nightshirt between them. Grateful for the silent embrace, Thancred leaned back into her as he covered one of her hands with his own, lacing their fingers together. While this level of intimacy between them was still new, her presence was familiar and comforting. With a sleepy hum she ghosted a few gentle kisses over his shoulder before she stilled, just holding him and rubbing small, soothing circles against his stomach with her thumbs.

After a moment, he finally broke the silence with a strained voice, “I’m sorry for waking you up.” 

“Nothing to apologise for, Thancred,” came her soft reply as she pressed another kiss to his neck. Despite her voice being rough with sleep, the gentle affection in it made a warmth bloom in his chest, chasing away some of the cold dread still lingering there.

After another moment of silence, she nuzzled the back of his neck with her nose. “Bad dream?”

“Yes,” he sighed.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

For a moment, he contemplated it. But the nightmares was just his mind playing tricks on him, dragging up things that already lay behind them, feeding off ‘what could have been’. Not fears for the future. Lahabrea was dead. And so was Emet-Selch. Instead, Thancred focused on the feeling of Viana breathing, her slow and even exhales a whisper against his skin, the solid warmth of her at his back, the safety he felt from her embrace and the sound of rain against the window. Even the darkness of the night suddenly seemed soothing – a reminder that they’d succeeded in vanquishing the Lightwardens. That Emet-Selch had not won. “No, I’ll be fine,” he finally murmured.

Her arms momentarily tightened their grip on him, even as he felt her nod. “Okay,” she replied softly.

When he moved, she loosened her hold on him, withdrawing a little, but Thancred twisted around, wrapped his arms around her and pulled her with him as he flopped back down onto the bed. She settled on her back and returned her arms around his shoulders as he laid his head on her chest, their legs a loose tangle. The nightmare may have been born of things in the past, but he just… he wanted to hold her. Feel her heart beat and remind himself that for now, the biggest threat to them was whatever Ryne had sensed out in the Empty.

“You sure you are all right?” She asked quietly while she with leisurely movements gently brushed her fingers through his hair, stroking the back of his neck with her fingertips.

“Yes,” Thancred murmured as he closed his eyes and just enjoyed her affectionate touch. It was a soothing sensation, calming. “Forgive me, I just…” Hugging her close, he drew a slow, calming breath, inhaling the scent of her - leather and spices, with that sharp undertone he knew came from the residue of gunblade cartridges.

It seemed like she picked up on his intentions for she made a soothing sound. “It’s all fine, Thancred,” Viana reassured him while smoothing a hand over his shoulder in a loving caress.

The soft understanding in her voice tugged viciously at his heart. He wished he could bring himself to speak completely freely to her, but after a lifetime of veiling his intent behind flourished words, deflecting rather than confronting and keeping his cards close to his chest with everyone, it wasn’t easy. Especially after the past few years. ‘Brooding’, Urianger would say. But Thancred would like to think that he was trying to be better at it. He did not want Ryne to bottle things up as he had – still did - nor did he want to keep things hidden from Viana. Not after all they’d been through, how many times they’d nearly lost each other… after how long it’d taken them to come together like this.

“Thank you,” he murmured softly, even as there was a sting of guilt for that she’d have to deal with his issues like this. A sense inadequacy curled in his chest, those dark thoughts in the back of his mind once more stirring to remind him that she could do far better than him, that he did not deserve _this_, not after how he’d treated Ryne.

He felt her shift, her arms tightening around him, then the press of her lips to the top of his head before she silently resumed her ministrations. It was a simple gesture yet he relished in it, felt his heart swell with affection. The steady beat of her heart and drone of the rain outside soon made sleep tug at him, her continued caresses only interrupted briefly when she pulled a blanket over the both of them.

The nightmare was far from his mind when he finally fell asleep once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't knoooow. I still feel so rusty. Sheesh.


	14. Nightmares born of the future (Thancred/WoL, post-5.1)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a spoiler for the 50-60 Samurai questline in here, as well as some waffling about Warrior mechanics.

There was ash and smoke in the air.

Pain tore through her limbs, as if she was being sundered ilm by ilm, dissolving into nothing. The coppery taste of blood filled her mouth and nose. It was hard to see, her vision distorted from the bright white light that danced at the edges.

_‘Such a disappointment you turned out to be after all…’_

Her fingers were digging into hard soil, grasping at nothing. Where was her weapon?

_‘My friend… my beast.’_

Desperately, she struggled against the pain, tried to get up and away from here. But she was unable to even draw a breath or make a sound, not without choking on the blood in her mouth.

Or was it the cloying, white sludge lodged in her throat, cutting off her airway.

A dark shape swam in front of her distorted vision, slowly coming into focus until she could make out the cold, blue eyes regarding her. Or were they red?

All she could do was to stare up at him as he raised his katana.

_‘I guess this is where the hunt ends, my only friend.’_

“Viana-“

There was a flash of white. A familiar coat. The sound of metal clashing.

Then red filled her vision.

She tried to scream, tried to move.

Red on white cloth, red in silver hair, red on her hands. Her heart broke, shattering, just as it the ground collapsed under her, swallowing her as she cradled him close. She’d failed, hadn’t been fast enough, not strong enough.

She couldn’t protect him.

Darkness rushed in around her, pressing in from all sides. The white dripping from her lips mingled with the red that seeped from his chest. No, it trickled from hers too - an old wound, bleeding once more, risking to tear her apart. Something tugged at her. A heavy presence at the back of her mind roared to life, pushing against her consciousness.

“Viana!”

Someone in the dark pulled again, trying to pry her from him. No, she wouldn’t let go of him, not now, not-

Snarling, Viana moved on instinct, her vision a blur of red and muscles coiled tight, her mind a jumble of blood, death and fear.

“Sodding hell-!”

The voice sent a prickle of familiarity winding its way through the haze over her mind. Adrenaline coursed through her veins, her breath harsh as she pressed down on her attacker’s throat with her arm, her fingers closed around their wrist in an iron grip. Every fibre of her being was ready for a fight.

But they did not struggle against her. Instead they went limp, baring their neck for her. “Viana, it’s alright, you’re safe,” they choked out, their throat straining against her arm as they gasped for breath. “It’s me.”

She could feel the presence of her Inner Beast surge at the back of her mind, the fight or flight response mingling with the rage burning in her, the need to do everything to protect those dear to her too intense and overwhelming.

Despite the blinding, red haze that made her heart hammer against her ribcage, she became aware of that she was not on a battlefield. Instead there was the whisper of soft cotton against her skin, her body unburdened by armour. Tensing up, she stared down at her supposed assailant, their white hair clear in the gloom of the room. Suddenly, there was a disorienting feeling of falling, as if the world suddenly shifted on its axis despite that she remained stock still. Her breath caught in her throat. “Thancred?” she choked out, her voice barely recognisable to her own ears. Remnants of the haze persisted, but she clawed through it, struggling to remain aware and in control, to not succumb to the intense urge to lash out.

“Yes – Viana-“

Whatever else he said, she didn't hear. Nausea instantly hit her. Viana jerked upright, the relieved gasp for breath that followed from him like a knife in her chest. Oh Twelve, she’d… A new surge of panic tore through her as she scrambled off him, tumbling out of the bed and onto the hard floor. Dimly, over the rush of her pulse in her ears, she heard Thancred call out her name but she kept walking on trembling legs. She needed to get away, had nearly lost control.

She was a danger. 

Instinctively, she tried to reach out with her aether, to teleport elsewhere, but it was impossible to concentrate on it, not while moving. Suddenly sharp pain shot up her body, and she only barely managed to realise that she’d fallen to her knees onto the stone floor. Her head swam, like the floor was coiling and undulating beneath her. Pressing her hands into the cool surface, she strained to draw breath but her lungs refused to obey her, leaving her choking on nothing. In the back of her mind, the memory of nearly suffocating on the white sludge heralding the transformation into a sin eater, reared its head. A reflexive fear made her entire body lock up.

“Viana, you’re safe,” Thancred’s voice called out, muted as if someone had dunked her head under water. In a moment, he was kneeling in front of her, his fingers light on her jaw, only a barest touch to make her look at him while still maintaining his distance. “Focus on me; breathe, slowly, alright? In…. and out.”

Somehow, she managed to follow his instructions, choking in and out a breath that was little more than a gasp.

“Slower, my dear.”

She clung to his voice as he gently, patiently talked her through the motions, all while he kept repeating to her that there was no danger present, that she was okay. For how long they sat there on the floor, she wasn’t sure but with time he eased her into a less frantic state and she regained control over her lungs. “I’m sorry,” she choked out. Violent shivers shook her body, her sweat drenched shirt cold in the night air. The scar across her torso burned like it was a fresh wound once more. “I-I hurt you.”

“You didn’t,” he responded softly. Tears welled up in her eyes when he gently brushed back her hair from her eyes. This was real, it wasn’t a dream. “Can you give me a few more breaths? Good, darling…” In the muted light seeping into the room from the Crystal Tower, she could see his small, reassuring smile. His palms were warm against her cheeks when he shifted to cup her face properly, urging her to meet his gaze.

“Do you know where you are?”

With jerky movements, Viana managed to raise her hands to close her fingers around his wrists as she nodded. “Yes,” she choked out, clinging to him. “My room. The Crystarium.” She didn’t want him to let go, fearing he’d disappear into the darkness. The hazy image from the dream of his bloodstained body flashed before her mind. Her heart ached and another wave of nausea rolled through her. A figment of dreams it may be, but it made memories of Haurchefant well up, the old jagged sorrow like a lump in her chest that stole her breath away again. Gods, she could not go through that again, could not see another friend’s eyes grow dull as their life ebbed away because they tried to protect her.

A few tears slid down her cheek as she shuddered and stifled a sob, while her mind replayed all those other times she’d lost someone – Moenbryda, Papalymo, master Musosai, Ysayle, Minfilia, gods even Ardbert – piling on the fear she’d felt each and every time a friend had been in mortal peril. And of those there’d been far too many to count.

Thancred made a low, soothing sound as he wiped away her tears with his thumbs. “It’s all right; you’re safe, it was just a dream.”

Drawing a slow, shuddering breath, she nodded. It only took her sliding her hand over his bare arms for him take the hint to move closer and pull her into his embrace. Shivering, Viana all but curled herself around him, desperate to feel him. He was warm and solid, very much real and _alive_. Thancred murmured soft, soothing words in her ear as he slowly stroked her back.

“Let’s get you off the floor, darling,” he whispered after a moment. Slowly, he helped her stand, but she didn’t have it in her to object when he put an arm under her knees and picked her up to carry her the short distance back to the bed.

After some minor shuffling around, he sat with his back against the wall and pulled her back into his embrace. Viana huddled close, murmuring her thanks as he wrapped a blanket around them both. The warmth was welcome and slowly chased away the chill that had soaked into her body.

“No need to thank me,” he responded quietly. “I’m here for you, whatever you need.” Another shiver shook her when she felt him press a kiss to her hair.

Despite the hazy, numb feeling that’d settled over her, warm gratitude and affection wound its way through her. It was a relief to not be judged.

Turning her head, she pressed a kiss to his collarbone. She felt safe here with him, the weight of his arms around her comforting. They stayed like that for a little while, his hands slowly rubbing over her back and arm. Gradually she felt herself relax and everything around her come back a little bit more in focus as her sense of feeling returned to her limbs.

“Do you want to talk about what you dreamt?” Thancred asked softly.

Viana bit her lip. For a moment, it was hard to separate what she’d seen in her dream from what the Echo had let her witness in Estinien’s memories, and of her own from previous encounters with the Garlean prince – be it when he was alive, or when Elidibus possessed his corpse. The phantom pain across her chest still stung.

“It was Zenos,” she finally croaked out. Around her, Thancred’s arms tensed for the barest of moments, hugging her closer.

“We will be at your side the next time,” he responded firmly, his voice a low rumble that she felt reverberating from the depths of his chest. “And we will put him down for good.”

Despite the determined reassurance in his voice, a spike of cold dread surged through her. “That’s… what I dreamt,” she murmured, hiding her face against his neck. “That you were there.”

A gentle touch to her chin made her look up at him. In the dim light, she could see the concerned frown on in his features. “Viana, we won’t let you face him alone, no less than we would let you face Emet-Selch on your own.”

“I know,” she responded, glancing down. It was hard not to remember how Emet-Selch had taken them all down with his magic, while she’d been buckling under the effects of the Light, barely able to stand on her own accord never mind do even the slightest thing to protect them. “But gods Thancred, I…”

Thancred’s warm hand cradled her jaw and she felt him press a kiss to her forehead. “Trust in us.”

Viana jerked her head up to meet his gaze again. “Twelve, of course I do.” She raised her hand to caress his cheek, feeling the rasp of stubble that covered his jaw. “But Zenos is nothing like Emet-Selch.” In the hazy memories she’d witnessed of Estinien and Gaius fighting Zenos, he’d been entirely different from when she’d fought him the last time, almost more reminiscent of the powers Elidibus had displayed while possessing his corpse. “He is a monster. This obsession of his…” She swallowed around the lump in her throat. Thancred covered her hand with his and gently squeezed it in reassurance, waiting for her to continue. “He slit his own throat, survived that and went right back to pursuing me for another fight. He killed his father because he thought the imperials’ plans to use Black Rose would interfere with that which he seeks from me. Whatever he is now, not even _Estinien_ thought it wise to try and fight him.”

And Estinien had then just effortlessly taken out what looked like a reconstruction of Ultima, which said more than a few things of his judgment of the situation, in her opinion.

A violent shiver shook her then, unease coiling in her chest. “I… I fear what might happen if Zenos thinks you are all just in the way of that fight he seeks…” With a gentle pull, she got Thancred to lower his head so she could rest her forehead against his. There was a sudden urge to run her hand over his chest, to make sure that there really was no fatal wound there. Perhaps it was a good thing he kept her hand trapped in a gentle grip, rubbing soothing circles to the back of it with his thumb, her other arm caught between their bodies.

“Was that what you dreamt?” he asked carefully.

“I… wasn’t strong enough…” she responded slowly. “You tried to intervene but… I could do nothing to prevent you from being cut down.” Swallowing once more, her mouth suddenly felt all too dry. “I know the reality of the life we live but… I… I saw you bleed out in my arms and it just _hurts_.”

Thancred made a quiet, soothing noise before he closed the gap between them to give her a firm kiss, his chapped lips warm against hers. A shiver shook her, her eyes falling shut as she reciprocated the kiss, craving that intimate contact.

“It was a dream, Viana. I’m still here,” he gently assured her. His grasp on her hand grew firmer, and he pulled it away from his face to instead press her palm to his chest. She could feel his heart beat steadily beneath it. An illusion of his soul’s manifestation here on the First or not, it was a calming feeling.

Managing a small smile, she nodded. “That you are.” She leaned into him, pressing her lips against his once more. Thancred hugged her close, the tenderness in his touch chasing away the last remnants of the nightmare clinging to her mind. The fear of losing him, or any of her found family or friends, would never go away. But all the same, she knew she was stronger with them at her side, and would not want it any other way.

When they broke apart for air, they lingered with their noses brushing. “Thank you, Thancred,” she murmured quietly.

He brushed a hand through her hair, the pressure of his fingers against her scalp soothing. “Do you feel better?”

Nodding, Viana reluctantly withdrew a little from his embrace.

“Good.” He regarded her for a moment, brows furrowed, as if he was contemplating what to say. “When you woke, for a moment there was a red glow to your eyes. I assume that’s under control too?”

“Yes,” Viana murmured. While she’d never lost herself to that inner rage, she’d taken the precaution long ago to inform him and other Scions of that aspect of a warrior - just in case it ever happened. Axe, gunblade or katana; it was a part of her, and there was always the risk that she could slip up.

“Quite the relief.” A small, crooked smile spread on his lips. He brushed his thumb against her cheek, his fingers pressing against the base of her skull. “As much as I enjoy a tussle with you, I’d rather not do so against _that_. Much less when I’m half-dressed.”

A small laugh broke free from her, the last tensions melting away out of her shoulders. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” he murmured and gave her a short but sweet kiss. “You have it handled.”

Twelve, she loved him so dearly. Doubting would do her no good in regards to maintaining control. Wrapping her fingers around his wrist, she rubbed small circles against the back of his hand with her thumb. “You should sleep, love.”

“Won’t you?”

Giving him a small smile, she leaned forward and pressed a chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth. “I think I’ll grab a shower, clear my head for a bit… Feeling a bit sticky and gross.”

With a quiet hum, Thancred rested his forehead against hers. “Want some company?” he asked quietly. The tone of his voice only contained affectionate concern, void of any suggestions of a more carnal nature.

“Happily,” Viana replied softly as she laced her fingers with his, not wanting to let go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look, it's a game, abilities must be balanced, but that's not a issue when you're writing. Mix all the things.


	15. Solace (Thancred&WoL, 3.1-3.2)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've had this in my drafts folder for a good six months, and I'm tired of mulling it over. :') You can't tell me Aymeric had all the city leaders there and that there wouldn't have been some sort of formal party.
> 
> English isn't my first language, so if there's any mistakes or if you have feedback, you're welcome to share it!

As far as Thancred was concerned, the outcome of the grand melee between the Grand Companies came as no surprise.

Honestly, that Aymeric had convinced Viana to fight for Ishgard, despite that she technically was a lieutenant of the Maelstrom and as a Scion maybe should have stayed neutral to begin with, probably should have counted as cheating. The woman was a veritable army in of herself with or without that axe of hers. So, as much fun as it had been to watch her toss around the other soldiers - in some cases literally, as one unfortunate miqo'te lad wearing the colours of the Adders had experienced - the appearance of the cyclops had seemed a bit more in need of his attention.

Although once he returned to the field and got informed by a breathless soldier that she’d gone one-on-one with Raubahn and won, he was a little disappointed that he’d missed the rest of the spectacle. The Bull of Ala Mhigo against the Warrior of Light? Well, that must have been a sight for the ages.

Viana certainly seemed in higher spirits than he’d seen her in several days once he did find her being patched up by the same miq’ote lad she’d sent sailing into a snowdrift. Not even the reminder about the banquet that evening seemed to dampen her mood.

That did not seem to have held on as the evening came, judging by the almost panicked look on her face once she and Alphinaud materialised next to the glowing aethernet shard they’d agreed to meet at.

“There you are,” Thancred greeted them, his breath rising in front of him as a white cloud in the cold evening air. “Almost thought I’d have to walk back to see what was taking you so long.”

Much the same as him, they were both bundled up in thick coats decorated with the house Fortemps crest to keep the bone-chilling night air at bay, even though they’d had a markedly shorter distance to walk in the cold than he had thanks to the aetheryte.

“My apologies, Tataru got a bit…” Alphinaud began, but then trailed off in a rather uncharacteristic manner as he glanced up towards Viana.

“Nitpicky?” she offered with a strained smile. Her demeanour made Thancred raise an eyebrow. It’d been plain to him that she had not been particularly keen on the idea of attending, a sentiment he honestly shared with her when it all came down to it, but he had not expected this. But before he had a chance to ask, she shuddered hard and crossed her arms. 

“If it’s all the same to the two of you, can we walk and talk?” she continued. Without waiting for the two of them to respond, she promptly started making her way off towards the large building where the evening’s festivities were to be held.

The distinct clacking of heels against the cobblestones made Thancred’s gaze drop down to where her coat ended somewhere below her knee. He instantly grimaced in sympathy upon seeing that, except for some white fabric hanging down the back of them, her legs were entirely bare. Clearly whatever Tataru had made for her had not taken the climate into account.

Granted, they just had to walk a short distance but he was covered from neck to toe and in the relatively short time he’d been out there, he’d felt his thighs start to go numb from the cold.

Exchanging a look with Alphinaud, who just gave a small, sheepish shrug, the two of them hurried off after her.

The guards at the door just waved them through, clearly recognising Alphinaud and Viana on sight and thus not bothering with checking them for any invitations.

“Well that’s a relief to be out of,” Thancred huffed as the three of them finally got into the warmth of the building’s entry hall.

Inside, a few servants were gathering up the cloaks and other outerwear of the guests, which Alphinaud promptly bee-lined for, leaving Thancred and Viana to trail behind him. At least someone in their little party was eager for this whole affair.

A small prickle of unease raced down his spine at the sight of the nobles milling about. Their collective voices echoed through the hall, mingling into an incomprehensible drone. He’d been back in civilization for more than a few weeks now, but it was still hard to adjust to the crowds and bustle of a city like Ishgard. Once, what felt like a life time ago, he’d have relished in this sort of setting, but now… 

The mere thought of Minfilia made it feel like someone had placed a heavy weight on his chest, making it hard to breathe. Thancred swallowed around the lump in his throat, guilt and sorrow making his heart ache. He was in no mood for incessant prattle about the latest fashions and the stifling, perfume soaked air of too many people gathered in one place. He’d still keep his eye and ears open for anything interesting or valuable to the current affairs unfolding, but the sooner this evening was over, the better as far as he was concerned.

But, at least for him, the crowds were to his benefit. He hadn’t been in Ishgard long enough to be as recognisable as Viana and Alphinaud, and his training let him blend in and remain unnoticed if he wished to. His job for the evening was largely to keep an eye out for trouble, a precaution in the wake of ser Aymeric’s stabbing, and not to force himself to mingle and make small talk.

He couldn’t say the same for Viana. As they picked their way between the groups of nobles, heads turned and tittering whispers followed quickly in their wake. Discomfort practically rolled off her in waves. Thancred put his hand on her back in what he hoped was a comforting gesture, and much to his relief he noticed her shoulders relax a bit.

“Are you alright?” he asked in a low voice, slowing his steps just a fraction to buy them a little bit more of time in between the groups of people, without outright stopping.

“Not really,” she mumbled stiffly. “I feel too… _watched_. I’m not good at… this sort of stuff, not like you, Alphinaud or Tataru.” She shook her head a little, eyes still forward.

“You’ve been to these sorts of events before.”

With a low, dreary laugh she glanced at him. “If you’re referring to the feast admiral Merlwyb threw, and that debacle in Ul’dah; I fainted due to the Echo before the toast was over at the first one, and I fully intended to hide out by the food with Yda at the second.” Her brow creased in a frown, the look in her eyes forlorn. “I’ve scraped by as an errand girl and a mercenary my whole life. I don’t know how to talk with a good majority of these people, or feel like I belong here to start with.” Snorting, she continued with a wry, self-deprecating tone, “And I can’t exactly latch onto Aymeric or count Fortemps like some lost child.”

He could sympathise with that feeling of being out of place; he’d felt it when he’d arrived in Sharlayan. A wharf rat who barely knew his letters didn’t seem to belong amongst the white towers of the scholar nation. It was a notion others had shared, and his thick Limsan accent had only served as a constant reminder to his tutors how his, in their eyes, lowborn standing put him below the native Sharlayan students in terms of intelligence and skills.

Still, he’d been around the court of Ul’dah long enough to at least give some advice. “As crass as it sounds Viana, just smile and nod,” he quietly responded while glancing up at her. “You’ll meet people tonight who have no interest in your opinion, and just want to speak about themselves to try and impress you - all so they then can tell their friends that they talked to ‘the Warrior of Light’. You may feel like little more than a curiosity tonight, but remember my friend, to those of us who care, you are far more.”

Surprise flittered across her features before she nodded. “I… will keep that in mind, thank you.”

As they joined the line of people waiting to have their coats taken care of, she kept nervously fidgeting with the sleeves on her coat. If it hadn’t been born out of her obvious discomfort, he felt like her uncharacteristic mannerisms would have been rather adorable.

“Toes intact?” he asked lightly to distract her thoughts, giving her feet a pointed glance while his fingers busied themselves with unbuttoning his coat.

“It certainly was a close call,” she sighed, but a small smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. “And before you judge me, I know nothing about these things so I followed Tataru’s directions.”

“I dare say Tataru have an excellent eye for these things, so far be it for me to question it.”

Her expression softened a bit more as she seemed to focus her attention less on their surroundings and more on him. There was a small tug of guilt in his chest that he’d have to toss her to the wolves, rather than keep her company. But he needed to keep some distance to have a proper view of things, especially with his left eye still covered.

The least he could do was at least try and ease her into a more jovial mood before they actually entered the grand hall. And while his honeyed words never seemed to work on her, they did seem to at least amuse her.

Thancred slipped off his coat and then gave her a small bow and charming smile while motioning towards hers. “May I take your coat, milady?” For her benefit, it was an easy façade he was willing to slip back on once more.

“Oh.” Viana blinked in surprise and then at his direction turned around so he could help pull the heavy leather and fur item off her shoulders. “Thank you, Thancred.”

As the coat fell into his arms, he felt his mouth go a little dry, his gaze momentarily roaming over her toned upper back as it was revealed, following the old, pale scars down until where the white fabric of the dress was laced together with a deep red ribbon. Seven Hells, he wasn’t sure whether to commend Tataru or indeed question her. Was she planning on giving everyone a heart attack with this deviation from Ishgard’s noticeably conservative fashion?

When Viana turned back around, Thancred let his gaze briefly dip to take in her entire form. In his defence, he’d ever only seen her in the heavy armours she wore, or at most a loose-fitting tunic and jacket at the Rising Stones. Not something that left both her arms and back exposed and hugged every curve she had from her neck to her hips, the black and white skirt being markedly shorter at the front than at the back to expose her long legs.

Once he noticed the uncertain glint in her eyes, he cleared his throat and gave her a comforting smile as he handed over their coats to a servant who had appeared at his side. 

“Relax, you look absolutely stunning,” he told her earnestly and offered her his arm. That she was an attractive woman had never been something he’d deny. “I wager ser Aymeric won’t know what hit him.”

Viana slipped her left hand into the crook of his arm, but used her free one to give his shoulder a light smack - though he did see her fight a smile at his obvious teasing.

“Oh no, _don’t_. Rumours to the contrary, he’s just a friend, Thancred,” she replied with a firm voice. Whether the blush gracing her cheeks were from his compliment or the mention of the dashing commander, he did not know, but he would like to think it was the former rather than the latter. If only because it was the first time he’d gotten that reaction from her.

“Doesn’t mean that I’m not right,” he mused as he led her over to where Alphinaud were waiting for them. Truly, he liked ser Aymeric, but for a politician the man was terribly obvious when it came to her.

“With the way you’re filling out that coat I’d warn you about the risk of women flocking to you like starved beastkin,” she quipped in response. “But somehow I think that’s an idea less unwelcome to you than I imagine it to be.”

Thancred snorted, well aware of that the cut of the black jacket he wore accentuated the broader physique he’d gained while surviving out in the wilds of the Dravanian Forelands. He’d elected to just braid back his hair a bit more than usual, and trimming his beard rather than outright shaving it.

“Such flattery, my dear,” he smirked, falling back into the familiar flow of their banter, as bleak an echo as it was from before Ul’dah. “If you’d rather just slip off somewhere else, I’m more than amendable to the sugg-!“ He interrupted himself with a chuckle when she gave his shoulder another light whack. But, an amused smile had spread on her lips, so he deemed his efforts a success.

Alphinaud was busy adjusting the cuffs on his white coat with a look of concentrated anticipation on his face. Beyond the grand doors, Thancred could hear the loud, clear voice of someone announcing various guests as they entered. Carefully, he slipped his arm from beneath Viana’s as they joined Alphinaud. 

He instantly looked up at them with a smile, "Well, my friends, are we ready?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” Viana chuckled as she reached out and laid a hand on Alphinaud’s shoulder. “You sure there’s not a primal you’d rather I went toe to toe with?”

There was a fond amusement plain in Alphinaud's eyes as he looked up at her. “Afraid not,” he replied. “Forgive me for always bidding you into battles on my behalf.”

As Viana laughed softly and responded with quiet reassurances, Thancred watched the two of them silently. It had been a relief when he’d heard from the Vath that there’d been a white haired elezen boy travelling with the slayer of Ravana. The Braves’ betrayal had left him fearing the worst for the lad.

Twelve, he had grown so much in such a short time.

Thancred had never been quite as close to master Louisoix’s family as Urianger had, yet that part of him that urged him to try and fill the void left by his old mentor after the Calamity, felt a sense of fond pride at the growth Alphinaud displayed - less haughty, more aware of the people around him. And clearly, he and Viana had grown far closer during their travels in the north.

He slipped back a little as they moved to where they could await their turn to enter the main hall. He had no intentions of making a grand entrance by their side. Viana glanced back at him, a silent question in her eyes, but he just gave her a quiet nod and reassuring half-smile.

She gave him a small smile in turn, a flicker of something weary but gentle in her gaze, a look he’d never really seen on her before. It took him aback, but before he had a chance to contemplate it further, a question from the servant by the door made her turn away once more. Alphinaud wasn’t the only one who’d changed, who had been shaped by the hardships and losses they’d suffered.

As the announcer’s loud and clear voice rang out, proclaiming their arrival, Thancred felt keenly aware of that he was stepping in the wake of history. In the span of a few months, the two before him had helped upend a thousand years long war and usher in a new era for the nation.

What ink would be spilled to retell this tale, he did not know. Nor did he think he deserved to have any words dedicated to whatever small part he played in these grander schemes – his work was in the shadows. Let them stand in the light.

But, as he listened to the soaring voices who eagerly welcomed his fellow Scions, he silently vowed to himself to see to that they were _all_ kept safe.

That he would not fail the rest of the Scions as he had failed Minfilia. 

\-----

Was it awful of her to wish for someone to arrive with the news of some sort of urgent disaster that needed to be tended to? It didn’t have to be something large! Just... something, anything, that’d give her the excuse to get out of here?

“I’m honestly not sure what she was complaining about!” A middle-aged elezen woman scoffed, her nose wrinkled in disapproval. “Tell me, lady Viana, do all your fellow adventurers follow directions so poorly? I was very specific with my requests!”

“I can’t exactly speak for everyone-,“ Viana began, but was swiftly interrupted by the derisive snort of a dark haired man who’d lingered a little too close by her side ever since she’d gotten roped into this particular group’s conversation.

“Of course you can’t, my dear,” he interjected, “clearly this adventurer that lady Noitelle hired is not of the same calibre as yourself.”

The sudden touch of a hand against the bare skin of her back made her tense up, her instincts kicking in, and she only just stopped herself short from introducing the man’s chin to her fist.

Thankfully, the arrival of a server offering to refill everyone’s wineglasses bought her a respite from having to respond to anyone. When the servant tried to offer her a goblet of her own, she declined off with a strained smile. She hadn’t had anything to drink all evening, and could feel it in her throat, but by the Twelve it just… 

Gritting her teeth at the, by now, familiar threads of anxiety, Viana plastered a pleasant smile onto her face and gave the nobles a small, stilted curtsy. “Pray excuse me, my lords and ladies; I fear I just remembered that I need to speak with Alphinaud about something.”

A blonde, wispy looking girl perked up at the mention of Alphinaud, her blue eyes nearly sparkling as she clasped her hands in front of her. “Oh! Do bring him back here won’t you? I’d love to speak with him!”

“I’m… sure he’d love to meet you too, excuse me.” Viana slipped away before anyone else had time to say anything to keep her there, or worse, offer to accompany her.

Why did the ‘a terrible thing have happened, pray help us at once’ messengers only arrive when they’d interrupt something she was actually enjoying?

As she moved towards the edge of the large hall, keeping her stride purposeful and eyes forward while skirting around the clusters of people so she wouldn’t suddenly get asked about this or that inane thing, Viana briefly considered actually finding Alphinaud.

But the last she’d seen of him, he’d been conversing with count Fortemps and the leaders of a few of the other houses. And as far as she knew, Aymeric was still discussing Ishgards reintegration into the alliance with the other city state leaders, a conversation she did not feel it’d be appropriate for her to butt in on.

Aymeric had enough on his plate, as it was.

It was tempting to just find Thancred in the hall. No doubt he was somewhere within her sightline already considering the entire reason he got dragged along tonight was to keep an eye on her for security reasons. That mulling sense of concern that’d nestled in her stomach made itself known once more, sharp and prickling.

Surely he can’t have been particularly keen on this whole thing. His demeanour had been so… changed ever since Minfilia had…. 

Swallowing around the sudden lump in her throat, she sidled up against one of the large, elaborate columns lining to room as she frowned down at the stone floor. Not that anyone could blame him. She could only imagine the grief he felt. The memories of what she’d witnessed at the Antitower made sorrow she still barely held at bay herself stir in her chest. Despite knowing that it’d been Minfilia’s choice to go back, to heed Hydaelyn’s call, a part of her felt guilty for letting her. By now it was hard to pick apart who it was she grieved – Minfilia, Haurchefant, Ysayle or master Musosai? – much the same as it was increasingly hard to make out if it was the still missing Yda and Papalymo she was worried about, or if it was Thancred’s darkened demeanour, the toils Y’shtola’s means of seeing would take on her, or the ever lingering fear for Estinien’s survival.

The drone of everyone talking around her seemed to ring all the more hollow then, the music taking on an almost sour note to her ears. Her feet ached and the dress, as pretty and well-tailored as it was, felt _wrong_. She longed for the comfortable weight of her armour, of the security that came with having her axe with her.

“I know not what the floor has done to offend you, my dear, but you need to drink something.”

As if summoned out of thin air by her dark thoughts, Thancred appeared by her side, holding out a goblet for her. His sudden appearance didn’t startle her much, though she did hesitate before accepting the offered drink. “Thank you, but I’m not particularly thirsty,” she murmured while frowning at the dark liquid within.

A light touch to her elbow made her meet his gaze, the silent doubt clear in his expression. Without another word, he took the goblet back from her, and before she had a chance to object, he tipped his head back to drink of its contents. Viana tensed, worry instantly knotting in her stomach. Memories of Nanamo’s tormented expression flashed before her eyes, the fear of that moment mingling with the far fresher memory of the panic she’d felt as the drug took hold of her at Falcon’s Nest and the futile struggle against its effects.

But Thancred merely gave her a small, reassuring smile as he held the goblet back out for her. “It’s a good vintage. No drugs or poisons from what I can tell. Although, do be a darling and catch me if I suddenly fall to the floor, would you.”

Accepting the goblet she laughed awkwardly, all at once feeling silly. “That obvious, huh?”

She felt his hand briefly press against her back – his warm, firm touch calming. ”With your recent experiences, one can hardly fault you for having lingering fears.”

Viana gave him a small, grateful smile and took a sip of the wine, the liquid a relief for her dry throat. He was right, it was good. “Thank you, Thancred.”

He inclined his head ever so slightly. “Hold out for another few bells, then you should be able to slip out from here.” His gaze swept across the room, alert and critical. “Most here seem to start feeling the effects of the drink and pleasant company, so you ought to not be missed then.”

The thought of her room back at the Fortemps manor seemed like a siren’s call right then. Never had the idea of just curling up in a bed seemed more tempting – not that having a safe bed to curl up in had been a common occurrence in her life to begin with. Glancing at him, she tilted her head to the side. “Eager to get out of here yourself?”

Evidently he picked up on her concern for his lips curled with a smile that did not reach his eye – a sight that was such a far cry from the charismatic grin she remembered from before they’d all been separated in Ul’dah. “Gossip, good wine and beautiful women – who’d want to leave?” he replied in a tone she could tell was forcibly light-hearted and casual.

It was an obvious attempt to deflect, one that might have fooled anyone not of the Scions. But she knew him. It stung a little that he felt the need to act as if nothing was wrong. Hesitating for a moment, she opened her mouth to reply, but his gaze shifted to look somewhere behind her. “Brace yourself, young lord Emmanellain is heading this way with a gaggle of others in tow.”

Her back stiffened, just as she heard Emmanellain’s familiar voice over the din of the hall. “Viana, old girl! A moment if you please!”

Viana briefly looked over her shoulder to confirm that yes; there was a good four-five others trailing behind Emmanellain, their attention right on her. Just as her stomach sank, she felt a comforting pat on her arm, but when she turned back to Thancred, he was gone once more.

“Rogues,” she muttered under her breath. Wonder if he could teach her that trick. Taking a deep breath, she plastered on a pleasant smile and turned to face the approaching group. The end of this evening could not come soon enough.

\----

It was late by the time Thancred returned to the Fortemps manor.

After seeing the other two off by the aethernet shard at the end of the festivities, he’d kept walking around the city, unable to let his thoughts settle. It’d begun to snow, but the cold air did little to help his uneasy mind calm. Perhaps a part of him had hoped someone would be dumb enough to pick a fight with him on some side street, but it seemed fate would make this the one night in Ishgard that all of the troublemakers stayed in-doors. He’d briefly considered just taking a room at the inn, but his steps had still returned him to the Pillars and their temporary home in Ishgard.

A sleepy eyed servant welcomed him back and, after insisting on taking his coat, asked if he needed anything. Thancred politely turned her down and reassured her that he could find his way to his room on his own. Perhaps his thoughts would stop twisting and turning once he actually lay in bed. 

The hall outside of their rooms lay quiet. The others must be fast asleep by now. With a slow exhale, he began to undo the buttons on his jacket as he walked past Tataru and Alphinaud’s rooms. Just as he reached the door to his room, the sudden noise at the end of the hall made him pause and tense up. Despite that, arguably, the house was safe and well-guarded, his instincts instantly put him on edge.

A small, well concealed door opened up. His subconscious instantly started calculating the chances of someone sneaking into the house and utilising the servant’s stairs to get right to their rooms, but much to his surprise, it was Viana who stepped out with a tray in her hands. Her eyes went wide as she froze upon spotting him, but then gingerly closed the door behind herself with a sheepish look on her face.

Raising an eyebrow, Thancred motioned towards the hidden door with a hand. “Using the servant stairs to sneak around now?”

Viana huffed out a quiet laugh, the sound clearly audible in the silence of the hall, as she swept back some errant tresses of hair behind her ear. He couldn’t recall ever having seen her with her dark hair hanging loosely around her shoulders before. Combined with the loose fitting clothes she wore, it gave her an unfamiliarly soft appearance, her body language far more relaxed than it’d been all evening. “It was the quickest way down to the kitchen” she replied slowly as she walked over to her door opposite of his.

His gaze drifted to the tray, taking in the metal tea pot and cloth covered straw basket. “I guess even the Warrior of Light gets midnight munchies.”

“It takes a lot of energy to stay on your feet in heels all evening.”

“A treat most well-deserved then,” he responded with a half-hearted smile. Especially when she’d barely had anything to eat or drink all night.

The tensions in her face from the laughter softened as she regarded him with badly concealed concern. “Took you a while to get back here.”

Thancred tensed, instinctually bracing himself for the incessant questions. The excuse that he’d merely helped a servant girl unwind after a long evening of hard work burned at the tip of his tongue, but something about the earnest worry in her eyes made him swallow the lie. Keeping his tone neutral, he turned his head away before responding, “I needed a walk.” 

“Ah, I… understand.” There was a brief pause and he was just about to bid her good night when she continued, “I couldn’t sleep either.”

A heavy silence followed her quiet admission. Unbidden, the memory of her stumbling out of the door in master Matoya’s lair to tell him Minfilia was gone came back to him. A rash, illogical part of him had blamed her for it – maybe still did. She was the Warrior of Light, chosen by Hydaelyn, slayer of primals and the woman who’d defeated the Black Wolf and saved Thancred’s sorry self from an Ascian’s control rather than just write him off as collateral damage in the battle. The muscles at his jaw tensed as that heavy feeling settled over his chest again. He’d stayed behind with Y’shtola so Minfilia could live, had trusted Viana to see to her safety.

And in the end it had been all for naught.

“Thank you, for tonight, by the way.”

Thancred turned his head back to look at her, his brow creased in a confused frown. What had he possibly done tonight that warranted gratitude?

Viana leaned against her door, her eyes meeting his. A hesitant, but grateful smile spread on her lips. “For trying to cheer me up, or distract me, whichever it was. I appreciate it.”

A hollow feeling of being not enough, unworthy, suddenly swirled in his chest. What meagre help he’d been, when he’d watched her tense body language and forced smile the whole evening. “My pleasure,” he responded in a vain attempt to appear neutral.

She regarded him for a moment, an open intensity in her expression that caught him off guard and left him unable to look away. “It helped, Thancred. _You_ helped.”

He opened his mouth to give some smart reply, a jest, but finally just closed it once more with a quiet exhale.

Sighing, she dropped her gaze. “Well, I’m sure you’re tired.” There was a brief pause, before she shrugged with one shoulder. “But I have an extra mug if you want some tea and company,” she ventured carefully. Then cocked her head to the side and mustered a smile. “I also have a bottle of Limsan red, if that’s more to your liking.”

Thancred hesitated for a moment, turning over her words. There was no underlying meaning to her invitation, that much he could pick up on. Nor did she seem intent on interrogating him about his state of mind.

Viana pushed open the door to her room. “Sorry, I understand if you’d rather be alone.” 

Clearing his throat, he stepped away from his door. “If you’re offering to share, then who am I to decline?”

A small, hesitant smile tugged the corner of her mouth as she stepped into her room and held the door open for him to follow. “Sharing a drink with a friend beats sitting alone in the dark.”

He made a low sound of agreement as he took the tray from her. “To good friends then,” he replied quietly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hate endings so much. I drafted the last bit both from his and her perspectives, unsure which one to go with.
> 
> Hope it was an ok read x_x


	16. Ghosts of the Past, part 1 (3.4, Thancred/WoL)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another thing that's been languishing in my draft folder for six months or so. There's mentions of blood, injuries and sex in these two parts, just so you are aware. I'll post a follow-up later.
> 
> Essentially just me giving her the Bioware NPC 'random encounter' treatment. :'D

Frustration simmered in Thancred’s veins as he picked his way through the crowds in the Quicksand, deftly avoiding bumping into intoxicated patrons milling about in the packed tavern.

Another wild chase, another false lead, at the end of which he just found some hapless criminals out in Thanalan who had been tricked into expecting a wealthy merchant to come knocking.

By the Twelve, he was getting fed up with these games. Both he and Riol had only managed to find smoke and mirrors wherever they looked. Planted documents, trails that led nowhere, clumsy ambushes from bandits who were tricked into expecting a payday… It was so obviously meant to keep the Scions busy, to hide what was really going on. An ill sense of foreboding prickled in his chest, the insistent feeling that he was missing something obvious right before him.

Most of all, he was annoyed at himself with how quickly he had leapt at this lead, so eager to keep his hands and mind busy after.. he swallowed around the lump in his throat as the memory of Minfilia – clad in white, with glowing blue eyes, smiling so serenely as she thanked him – flashed before his mind.

As if he deserved any gratitude.

Twisting, he avoided getting ale spilled on him by a loudmouthed roegadyn who was waving his tankard around while trying – and failing, by the look of it – to impress some ladies. Thancred was fairly certain he recognised one of the women, though she did not seem to look his way as he slipped by and disappeared into another crowd. One upside to his new look was certainly that few recognised him at a passing glance.

Reaching the back of the tavern, he finally spotted Viana at the far corner of the bar. Thancred’s brow furrowed further when he noticed a male miqo’te leaning against the counter, turned towards her. Judging by the unamused look on her face, his presence wasn’t particularly welcome on her part.

The miqo’te was gesturing towards some other table, clearly extending an invitation to her. There was an intense prickle of something dark and foul in Thancred’s chest and he gritted his teeth together while quickening his steps just a little to get around the last few tables faster.

Viana looked like she was about to reply to whatever the miqo’te had said when her gaze instead went past him to meet Thancred’s. Instantly, some of the annoyance melted away as she grabbed her axe and got up from her seat without sparing her unwanted admirer another look.

“Awe sweetheart, leaving already?” the miqo’te crooned.

“Clearly you need to check both your eyes and ears,” Viana sniped back and walked over to meet Thancred where he’d come to a stop. 

Upon noticing him, the miqo’te shot him an ugly look, one Thancred was quite familiar with from his many years around bars and taverns. The accusatory, ‘I was working on that one’, glare. Thancred scowled back and crossed his arms, his frustrations with the fruitless efforts of the day drawing his patience short. But, a shapely elezen walked by just then, and the miqo’te’s attentions were instantly caught as he turned to follow her instead, like a coeurl that had caught the scent of a new prey.

“You alright?”

Thancred made a low disgruntled sound and looked back to Viana, only to find her frowning at him with a concerned look in her eyes.

“What happened?” she asked and motioned to the small wound on his upper arm – a superficial nick of a knife from his would be ambushers.

“False lead,” he responded with a low voice. “I take it you had no better luck either?”

She shook her head and rested her hip against the stone banister. “Ended up on a wild dodo chase down by the harbour. There was naught but rats and a misplaced crate of Flames’ uniforms.”

“Damn it.” Thancred cast a glance around the busy tavern. “May I suggest we find somewhere with fewer ears to discuss things further?”

“Sounds like a good idea,” Viana responded. She pushed away from the banister with a weary sigh and hoisted up the leather strap attached to her axe over her shoulder with markedly slow movements.

The sight made guilt tug at him once more that he’d called on her to take the other side of, what had turned out to be, a useless lead. The memory of her suddenly collapsing, quite literally, right into his arms from a fever not too long ago was all too fresh in his mind. ‘Overworking herself’, Krile had said. Hot on its heels, were that unpleasant, churning sense of inadequacy curling in his stomach once more.

If only he was still able to teleport, he could have covered both of them on his own. His time in the wilds had all but forced him to accept his permanent inability to cast magic, but there were no tools or potions that could make up for that simple fact that he could not travel as fast as the others anymore.

As they left the Quicksand, he glanced up at the darkening sky. “There is a small place down by the Sapphire Exchange whose owner I trust. May I suggest we head there and share our findings to see if we can at least salvage something from this?”

“Do I dare to ask what sort of establishment it is?” Viana asked as she moved to walk on his left side – a habit he’d noticed she’d fallen into whenever they were out in the field. He wasn’t even sure if it was a conscious thing she did, or just an instinctual effort to cover his blind side. 

“Fear not, my dear, all they serve there is food,” he chuckled. “Did you eat anything?”

“No, I did not.”

“Then allow me to treat you to a meal. I feel it’s the least I can do after the hassle I’ve put you through today.”

“It was no problem, Thancred,” she replied and he didn’t need to look at her to know she had that small, understanding smile on her face that she seemed to give him so often of late. None the less, he felt the urge to turn his head, to give in to the incessant tug at wanting to see it again. “The Griffin wouldn’t be putting this much effort into throwing us of his track if what he is up to is, well… good.”

Nodding, he ignored the urge and kept his gaze forward, vigilant of pickpockets or anyone who may be following them through the crowds milling about. “Agreed.” He motioned towards a side street. “Here, we can get there faster this way.”

Many of the alleys and backstreets in Ul’dah were barely wide enough for them to walk side by side. But they regularly opened up into courtyards with shady looking shops and run down homes.

“Have you missed Ul’dah?” Viana asked as they walked up a set of worn down stairs.

“In the sense of that it’s hard not to miss a place where you spent over a decade,” he replied. For all its faults, Ul’dah was familiar to him. He knew this city, knew how it worked. “I get the feeling you have not been back here since the banquet either, have you?” Though he reflexively turned his head slightly towards her, his attentions remained on a group of people who came walking from the other side of the alley they’d entered.

“Only briefly, after we resolved things with Lolorito,” Viana responded, her voice flat with ill-concealed disdain. “To be honest, I don’t frequent this city much as is,” she muttered under her breath.

“Prefer dear old Limsa, do you?” he hummed with a small smirk.

Before she could respond, an unexpected motion from behind the group ahead set them both on the alert. Suddenly, a raggedly dressed male hyur came bolting around the group, somehow managing to squeeze by them in the narrow space, before nearly crashing straight into Thancred and Viana instead. Even though they stepped to either side, the hyur still bumped his shoulder into Viana, who turned with the motion. The hyur spun on his heel, looking like he was about to yell an insult before he froze, his eyes wide as the words died on his lips. For the briefest of seconds they stared at each other, and then he turned and bolted away as if pursued by an invisible entity determined to drag him into Hell and bury him beneath Nophica’s mighty bough.

“Well, Viana my dear, I think it’s safe to say your reputation precedes you,” Thancred snorted as he pushed himself flat against the wall to let the other group pass. “May want to check so your coin purse is still there though.”

But when there was no response he turned his attention back to her. She was still looking after the long since gone hyur, her face set into a look of decided alarm.

Thancred’s amusement made way for concern. “Is something the matter?” he asked as the last person passed.

Viana startled slightly, her gaze briefly flickering back to him, before she shook her head. “No, nothing at all.” With a last glance in the direction the hyur disappeared off to, she turned and continued walking.

Frowning, Thancred threw one look back over his shoulder as he followed her. “Someone you’d seen before?”

“No, of course not.”

Curious, he studied her. As valiant an effort though it was, her neutral expression was betrayed by the hard set to her jaw. “If you say so,” he replied with a light, disarming tone, concealing his own doubt. Briefly, she looked at him, as if considering saying something. But then she returned to stare right ahead towards the end of the alley.

She was hiding something, and his instincts told him to pull at that thread, to unravel this sudden mystery and uncover the truth. But, she was not someone he was trying to wheedle information out of. And, foremost, she was his friend, one he owed his life to at that.

So, he decided to let it go for the moment. If she wanted to share, she would. They walked in silence for a little while, and then turned out onto another main street. Dancers and street performers were everywhere, mingling with people walking home after work, or out to their preferred drinking holes. It made him feel oddly nostalgic to once again be back amidst Ul’dah’s vivid nightlife. The scents of spices, perfume and incense hung heavy in the air, mingling with the smell of meat cooking over open fires.

But all the same, none of it – neither the alluring looks of finely dressed men and women clearly looking for some company for the evening, nor the cries of various streetcallers advertising establishments and shows in the vicinity – held the appeal it once had. 

While Thancred remained acutely aware at all times of how people were moving around them, he was instantly put back on edge when he caught Viana occasionally glancing about as if she was looking for something. Or someone.

His concerns only grew when she then seemed to relax a little bit more when they entered another alleyway, leaving behind the bright and colourful crowds. “You seem tense,” he commented after a little while.

“It’s nothing,” she replied. “I just don’t like this city. The crowds. Too many bad memories.” 

He frowned at that. Was she referring to the debacle of a banquet that’d scattered them all to the four winds? He was mulling her choice of words over as they were just rounding a corner onto another side street that would take them to the place he’d suggested, when a female voice suddenly called out behind them.

“Well, well, well. I thought Orif might have sampled the goods again and just imagined things, but it really is you.”

At his side, Viana froze to the spot. Thancred came to a halt. He did not recognize the voice, nor the name mentioned. But judging from her reaction, she did. “Friend or foe?” he asked quietly, his hands already ready to go for the hilts of his weapons.

“Neither. A nuisance,” she replied through gritted teeth as she turned to face the speaker. 

The cold tone of her voice took him entirely by surprise. Turning as well, he looked back to see a female roegadyn in heavy leather armour and a spear on her back. Smiling sweetly, the woman put her hands on her hips and cocked her head to the side as she regarded Viana, but everything about the way she held herself spoke of someone intimate with violence.

“What do you want, Aisthal?”

The other woman, Aisthal, raised a hand to her chest as her eyes widened in a display of overdramatic dismay. “Why, no warm hellos for your dear old friend? Vi-vi, I am absolutely crushed!” 

Viana crossed her arms and stared impassively at her, not saying a single word. Thancred could tell from her body language that she was on edge, but not readying for a fight. Despite it, he kept an eye on the roe woman - he’d been in Ul’dah long enough to recognise someone with gang affiliations, and so kept his senses aware of their surroundings in case there were more of them waiting around the corner. The question of how precisely they knew each other gnawed at his mind though. She hadn’t spoken much of her past, beside her life as a mercenary.

After a deafening moment of silence with tensions so thick Thancred felt like he could cut through it, Aisthal scoffed and slowly sauntered forward. All traces of false cheeriness were gone from her features in an instant as she levelled Viana with an ice-cold look.

“The vaunted Warrior of Light…” she sneered, venom dripping from her every word, as she narrowed her eyes. “Why I could scarcely believe it when I started hearing these tall tales of this slayer of primals that seemed to fit the description of my _dear old friend_ who suddenly just vanished one day and left me here to _rot_.” She came to a stop a few yalms from them, her expression twisted with scorn, yet her body language remained vigilant, as if she expected a swift reprisal.

But Viana didn’t move a muscle, just stared silently at her.

There was a flicker of annoyance in Aisthal’s expression, before her scowl deepened. “Thought it couldn’t possibly be you, but all the more fool was I when you were suddenly heralded as the ‘saviour of Eorzea’ and dining with the bloody Sultana herself. And now I hear the high and mighty lords and ladies up in Ishgard are fawning over you as well. My, my, someone’s certainly moved up in the world, haven’t they?”

The last sentence was nearly growled, each word clipped and sharp with disdain. Then her eyes turned to Thancred, dipping to take in his entire form as she smirked. “Who’s the scruffy one? Your latest bedwarmer? Must get a lot of them, all eagerly lining up to fuck the woman who has bested dragons, primals and the Black Wolf himself, no?”

Thancred grit his teeth, but before he had a chance to reply, Viana interjected, “He’s a friend, and has nothing to do with this, so leave him out of it.” If words could be enough to freeze Ifrit to solid ice, her tone right then would have done it.

Raising an eyebrow, Aisthal smirked. “Aw, what now? Won’t let him speak for himself?” she jeered as she leaned forward ever so slightly.

He crossed his arms and levelled her with a firm stare. Anger flared in his veins at her heckling of them both, but he kept his posture loose and relaxed. “Far from it,” he replied casually. “Some would accuse me of speaking too much. Now, may I inquire as to what business you have upsetting my friend here?”

“Oh, such a smooth tongue on this one,” Aisthal chortled, her bright yellow eyes raking over him in a manner that made the hairs at the back of his neck stand on end - like she was a ravenous wolf eyeing a piece of meat. “Must be putting it to good use between her legs for her to glare like that as soon as I look at you, pretty boy.” She turned her attention back to Viana with a feral, mocking grin. “You never were particularly good at sharing, were you, my dear friend?”

“Did you have a point to this charade?” Viana asked coolly. “Or did you just come here for empty posturing?”

“Oh I’m not sure,” Aisthal hummed as she tapped one finger to her chin. “But speaking of, I do wonder; does your friend here know of your past?”

In his periphery, Thancred noticed Viana going deathly still.

The grin on Aisthal’s lips turned downright vicious. “Oh he does not, does he?” She slowly stalked closer, like a predator circling her prey, as she continued speaking, “Thinking of it, I wonder what those Scions of the Seventh Dawn would think if they heard what their precious little hero did when she was young – just another filthy street rat from Ul’dah, consorting with all sorts of criminals and doing their dirty work.” As tall as Viana was, Aisthal still towered over her as she leaned into her personal space. “It’d certainly smear that heroic image of yours, wouldn’t it?”

Thancred felt something in his chest clench, a sense of recognition and sudden understanding. Well, that solved the mystery of how they knew each other, and explained why she’d been acting the way she had. He could only assume that the hyur they’d bumped into had indeed been someone she’d known. But as unexpected as this sudden glimpse into her past was, he’d rather get the both of them out of there as soon as possible.

“Whatever past actions you think you may be holding over her, I assure you, we do not care,” he interrupted firmly as he glared up at the roegadyn woman. “We know who she is today and all the good she’s done for Eorzea.”

Two sets of eyes turned to look at him. There was a brief look of surprise on Viana’s face, before a grateful smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. Far be it for him of all people to pass any judgment on what one may have had to do to survive.

“One of them, are you?” Aisthal scoffed as she met his glare with a cool, appraising look. “Hm, yes, you look like the gallant, heroic type.”

Thancred nearly barked out a bitter laugh at the assessment. Far cry from that, he was.

“Enough, Aisthal!” Viana finally bit out. “It’s been over ten years since then; move on.”

Aisthal instantly bristled as her attention snapped back to Viana, her eyes wide with fury. “Move on!?” she spat. “_I have moved on!_” She leaned back to spread her arms out, grinning as if she was a general returning victorious from a war to accept the accolades of her people. “I’m the leader of my own organization, and we’ve taken out all those who bossed us around when we were young! Like how we said we would! To make them all pay! Together!”

“Good for you, and now you’ve had your chance to brag,” Viana replied, her voice flat. “I’m out of that life; you had your chance to do the same and chose not to.” Glancing at Thancred, she nodded in the direction they had been going before. “Come, let’s go.”

As Viana began to turn away, Aisthal’s suddenly moved, but Thancred was faster. She froze, hand hovering an ilm or so over Viana’s shoulder, to glance down at the dagger suddenly pointed straight at her throat.

“You seem like a smart woman, so take my advice, and just walk away,” he spoke with a firm tone, eyes trained on her and ready for any attempts from her to escalate this encounter further. “I am in no mood to dirty my blade today.”

Aisthal glared at him. “What a loyal little guard dog you have, Vi,” she growled, but Thancred held firm. “Must feed him some quite tasty morsels to earn such a fervent defence.”

“Unlike you, I don’t try to use and manipulate my friends for my own means,” Viana replied coldly. Thancred felt her hand on his shoulder, the reassuring squeeze enough to make him relax his stance and lower his blade. At least enough to seem outwardly at ease.

Making an angry, frustrated noise, Aisthal turned her head away, but stepped back from them none the less. “I see you haven’t lost that habit of moralising grandstanding.”

“No, I haven’t,” Viana snarled, and for the first time in the whole conversation genuine anger seeped into her voice. The familiar feeling of her aether surging made goosebumps spread over his arms and hairs stand on end. It was intense enough that Thancred gave her a quick glance, just to make sure she wasn’t tapping into that bestial rage of hers, but her eyes remained void of any eerie red glow. 

“That ‘moralising grandstanding’ is what’s given me friends who actually care for me!” Viana continued. “_A family_! And I’d go through all Seven Hells for them!”

Aisthal looked stunned for a moment, and then her features darkened with rage. Thancred barely had time to register the sense of contentment in his chest, before the roegadyn woman shouted out an order and footsteps suddenly echoed in the alley behind them.

Drawing his blades, he pivoted on his heel to cover Viana’s back.

As he did, he saw her draw her axe, snarling, “Are you really this petty, Aisthal!?”

“_We_ were your family, and you left us!”

A male miqo’te leapt at Thancred, sword in hand. He blocked the clumsy swing and quickly moved to the side before jabbing his knife into the other man’s thigh. With a startled cry, the miqo’te fell, only for a female hyur to take his place. As he exchanged blows with her, he could hear the heavy sound of metal hitting stone behind him, cursing, and loud voices. Flipping his dagger over in his hand, he aimed a kick at the woman’s knee, and when it buckled beneath her, aimed a strike to her head with the pommel. She promptly crumpled into a heap onto the cobblestones.

They were an untrained lot, clearly used to brute force and intimidation rather than any cohesive combat. Thankfully the width of the alley only allowed them to come at him in twos at most, and he had a relatively easy time keeping them at bay. A nimble miqo’te woman and lalafell slunk by him while he was busy with their male highlander companion, but he soon saw the woman get thrown into a nearby stack of crates, promptly crumpling to a heap as a pair of daggers slipped from her hands. He could only imagine the lalafell suffered a similar fate.

An intense shockwave of aether washed over him, followed by a loud crash and a pained cry. Silence fell over the alley as Aisthal’s remaining cohorts shrank back, fear in their eyes.

Turning his head, Thancred saw Aisthal lying on the ground with her back against some crates with Viana standing over her, then looked back to the thugs in front of him. “Get your wounded and go,” he growled.

They didn’t hesitate before quickly picking up their comrades and making themselves scarce.

Scoffing, he sheeted his sword but kept his trapper’s dagger in hand. Desperate fools.

He kept an eye on the thugs as he backed up towards where Viana stood. The aether rolled off her in waves, like palpable static that made his skin crawl. He was familiar enough with the sensation and finally looked up at her. Unsurprisingly, her eyes were coloured red and glowing faintly as she glared down on the prone Aisthal.

“Well,” Aisthal began and spat to the side. A tooth clattered against the stones. “You gon’ kill m’now?”

Despite her situation, her tone was harsh and full of challenge. With a low growl, Viana took a step forward, and the brief widening of Aisthal’s eyes betrayed her aloof exterior.

A cold sensation of dread slid down the back of Thancred’s neck and he quickly touched her arm. By the Twelve, the last thing they needed was her to loose herself in the rage.

Much to his relief, rather than lashing out at him, Viana froze under his touch then jerked her head to look at him. A trickle of blood was running from her nose, and her lip was busted.

“Viana,” he spoke quietly, carefully, his muscles tense and ready. She’d warned him of this, and knew there’d be no reasoning with her if she truly was lost in that red haze.

The moment seemed to stretch into eternity before her shoulders slumped and the rage melted from her features. The oppressive pressure of her aether receded, along with the glow in her eyes. Finally, familiar murky seagreen eyes blinked back at him. “I’m fine,” she rasped out, then turned back to Aisthal.

Thancred let his hand slip from her arm as she stepped closer to the roegadyn, her axe held in a tight grip. “Don’t ever let me see you again,” she growled.

Aisthal sneered up at her. “That’s it? Too weak willed to even finish me off?” Suddenly, there was a flash of a knife as she lunged up from where she lay.

With his heart in his throat, Thancred leapt forward. But Viana evaded the uncoordinated attack and quickly drove her fist into Aisthal’s face. With a grunt, she fell back against the crates, dazed, while the knife clattered to the ground.

Breathing heavily, Viana stared down at her. “No, I’m just not you,” she responded, voice flat and tired. “Live your life as you wish to. I’m not bound by your webs anymore.”

Slowly she stepped back from her, catching Thancred’s gaze as she finally turned and walked past him.

Aisthal struggled to sit up. “Do you really think they care?” she called out. “That you’re not just a convenient weapon in their arsenal? That they won’t throw you away, as soon as you’ve outlived your usefulness!?”

Anger flared in Thancred’s chest and his neck felt hot while his pulse rushed in his ears. With a flick of his wrist, a throwing knife impaled itself in the crate right by Aisthal’s head. She closed her mouth with a click, her wide-eyed gaze fixed on him. “We do care,” he growled.

“Thancred, let’s go.”

Viana’s quiet voice made him take a deep, calming breath. Slowly, he took a few steps backwards to follow her, his eyes still trained on Aisthal. “I’d say it was a pleasure to meet,” he drawled as he holstered his dagger with a flourish. “But it’d seem uncourteous to so blatantly lie to a lady.” The quip earned him a furious glare, but she made no move to get up.

Good.


	17. Ghosts of the Past, part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Lying,” she finally responded. “The hyur we bumped into the alley, I… knew him, once.”
> 
> “I had surmised as much.”
> 
> She huffed out a puff of air through her nose and nodded, lips pressed together in a tight line. “Yeah, not that hard of a puzzle to put together, is it?”
> 
> “I’ll admit I was a fair bit surprised.” There was a moment of silence, as if he was weighing his options, before he continued. “It’s not an easy life.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahah, this got too long. x_x
> 
> Spoilers for 3.4 and 3.5.

As the haze of her rage faded, time in turn seemed to speed up and pass by in a blur. One moment she was staring down at Aisthal, embers of rage and frustration still flickering in her chest and a bitter taste in her mouth as old as painful memories came crashing down over her all at once… and the next she was standing alone in an overly lavish private room.

It turned out that the ‘small establishment’ Thancred had spoken of was the Moonlit Rose - a restaurant but a stone’s throw from the main trading avenue of the Sapphire Exchange that mainly served wealthy merchant’s and nobles. Not the largest of its kind, but hardly a little corner shop either. And, evidently a place Thancred was more than passing familiar with, judging by how its owner, an elderly miqo’te woman named C’rholla, readily allowed them access to the place’s singular private room.

The moment Thancred had showed her to it, he’d disappeared off to retrieve something downstairs. The thud of the door closing behind him seemed to echo in the deafening silence of the room.

He had not said one word about what had happened. 

Jittery energy still coursed through her limbs. With her jaw clenched, Viana glanced about the room, taking in its silks and expensive looking furniture. She was dirty and smeared with blood from a couple of wounds – none that a potion hadn’t been able to fix but merely standing there in the unfamiliar room made her feel uneasy.

Instead, she drifted over to the glass doors that led out onto a terrace. 

Thancred wasn’t dumb. Surely he had figured out that she’d indeed recognized the hyur that’d bumped into them in the alley. She’d expected him to, at the very least, express some displeasure at that she had lied.

Had she been more present of mind, she might have taken a moment to enjoy the sight of the colourful flowers spilling out of painted clay pots or climbing up elaborate trellises, their sweet scent hanging heavy in the evening air. But as it were, she barely spared them a glance as she briskly walked over to the balustrade and leaned against it, her eyes instantly sweeping over the street below. A part of her expected to see other old and half-forgotten, but still familiar faces lurking about, searching for them. But of course, there were none.

By the Fury, of all the people to run into, it had to be Orif? Someone she’d grown up with, who would still recognise her after all these years.

Her thoughts kept racing as she stared down at the crowds milling about down below. The sheer fury and spite on Aisthal’s face had brought back the memories of the argument they’d had that day, so long ago, when Aisthal’s machinations had nearly lost her the seemingly one chance she’d had to leave Ul’dah. Viana dug her fingers into the hard stone of the balustrade as an unpleasant taste rose in her throat. How young and naïve she’d been.

Footsteps behind her made her snap upright and look back to the door.

Thancred raised an eyebrow at her reaction, his expression otherwise void of anything that might clue her into what he was thinking right then. “Relax, we are safe here,” he said with an easy, calm tone. He was holding a bowl in one hand, and a pair of goblets in the other, with a bottle of wine tucked under his arm. “There’s a small army of guards downstairs with all the wealthy clients – they won’t dare to follow us.”

A flicker of embarrassment at her reaction made its way through the thorny feelings lodged in her chest. Warily, unsure of what to do, Viana watched as he walked over to the seating arrangement out on the terrace and set down the items he carried onto the table.

“I take it you have been here a lot,” she finally spoke.

He tugged off his gloves and motioned for her to join him. “I have, yes,” he replied as he picked up a cloth out of the bowl and wrung it out. “Here.”

She quietly thanked him as she accepted the offered cloth, relieved to finally wipe away the blood from her face and the gash on her leg.

Thancred finished undoing his armguards and tossed them down onto the bench. “We’re welcome to stay here for the night,” he finally broke the silence. “There should be an airship departing early in the morning.”

Exhaling, he took off his sword then sank down amidst the cushions of the bench. “Of course, you can just teleport back directly, if you so wish.”

Something in her instantly balked at the thought of returning to the solitude of her room at the Rising Stones. The others would surely pick up on her change of mood and ask questions she wasn’t sure how to answer properly. A prickle of anxiety settled in her chest as she picked over Thancred’s tone and words, suddenly looking for any hint as to whether he wished her to go, that he was tired himself and wished for time to himself, to unwind as he saw fit.

“Viana?”

She started, and shook her head. “Forgive me,” she responded quickly and balled up the cloth in her hands. “I won’t impose on you if you have… plans, or something.”

Thancred shook his head with a quiet huff. “I’m not looking to tumble into bed with some pretty lass to take the edge of a very long day, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

She looked at him properly then and only found his one uncovered eye calmly regarding her. 

“But you look like you need a moment,” he continued. “So whatever you do, at least get out of your armour and sit down for a while. C’rholla said they’d bring up food in a moment, and I’d be remiss if I didn’t say that her daughter’s cooking is just as good as what they serve at the Bismarck.” A charming smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “But if that’s not enough, then do it to spare me the earful that I’d surely receive from Y’shtola and Krile if you were to return looking so haggard.” 

Viana hesitated for a moment, then huffed out a tired laugh as she felt some tensions seep out of her body. It was dangerous how disarming he could be. “Can’t have that, can we?”

His smile grew ever so slightly. “The scraps of my dignity is most grateful, my dear.”

Even though she was aware of what he was doing, it was all too easy to relax while Thancred, with the professional ease of a trained storyteller, regaled her with light-hearted, fun tales, mostly involving their fellow Scions. Perhaps it was that unassuming, comfortable feeling she always got in his presence, but for once, it was a bit of a relief to get to shed the heavy layers, push up the sleeves on her long undershirt and really feel the evening breeze.

“So that’s why Papalymo always seem to watch you like a hawk when he’s eating,” Viana snorted as she finally sat down on the other side of the table.

Chuckling, Thancred held up his hands in a gesture of surrender, “I’ve seen him eat dragon peppers and barely bat an eye, I did not think he’d react quite so strongly to just some fermented fish.”

“You’re a scoundrel,” Viana drawled.

A rakish grin spread on his lips as he leaned back. “You wound me.”

With a roll of her eyes, she rested her chin in her hand and regarded him, curiously. “Speaking of tampering with food… The owner and her daughter - part of your network, are they?”

Thancred inclined his head ever so slightly. “Figured that out, did you?”

Viana shrugged with one shoulder. “You waltz into the kitchen through the backdoor with a bleeding woman in tow, and they don’t even ask any questions? Reckoned they knew you and what you do.”

Thancred nodded. “Yes, when I began to frequent Ul’dah more regularly as part of my owrk, I tried to find a good place where I could conduct more… Sensitive business. Speaking with targets, building more long-term relationships of value…””

“Seems reasonable. For how long have they gathered intel for you?”

“Somewhere around ten years or so,” he responded while scratching the side of his neck. “I picked this place because it was smaller and,” he motioned towards the rest of the roof terrace and its single room attachment, “this gave me a good place to talk to people whom I did not want to get overheard with. With time, I dared venture to C’rholla whether she’d lend me her eyes and ears.” A self-deprecating smile curled the corner of his mouth. “Fear I may never have quite recovered from the initial impression of merely being a flighty, skirt chasing bard with a too big appetite for the finer things in life.”

Viana laughed under her breath and raised an eyebrow at him, “Latest on a long list of people who have been wined and dined by you here, am I?” 

“Ah, Viana, my dear,” he drawled and reached over to pick up the bottle of wine he’d brought. He paused to eye the label before making an obvious show of breaking the fresh wax seal. “You’re hardly on the list of people who I have plied with sweet words and affections to get information or favours out of.”

The heavy feeling in her stomach surged again. Viana tapped her fingers against the table and watched as he poured up red wine. “Well, I do think I owe you an apology.”

“For what?” he asked lightly, without looking up.

She narrowed her eyes, not buying the casual air he put on. Facades. The theatrics, overstated phrases and grand gestures may be gone, but the carefully measured expressions, movements and words remained all the same. Once, she’d gotten the sense that he was hiding behind those grand overtures… now she got the same feeling from the dry, sharp wit that he wielded as surely as his weapons of choice. The bitter words he’d spoken to Emmanellain at Falcon’s Nest suddenly rang in her ears. She wished he’d share whatever pain he was feeling… but then, perhaps some wounds were still too fresh. Or perhaps she was not the person he wished to speak of such things to.

Before her thoughts could meander down the mournful trail of Minfilia’s departure with the Warriors of Darkness, Thancred held out a goblet for her. As their eyes met she saw a trace of concern in his carefully maintained expression.

Accepting the offered wine, she frowned down at it as she slumped back against the cushions, then, after a moment of silence turned to look out over the city. The stars had begun to appear in the sky - as always, it reminded her of night when she and Aisthal had climbed to a roof to look up at them. Never had she thought she’d see so much beyond of the world beyond the walls of Ul’dah. “Lying,” she finally responded. “The hyur we bumped into the alley, I… knew him, once.”

“I had surmised as much.”

She huffed out a puff of air through her nose and nodded, lips pressed together in a tight line. “Yeah, not that hard of a puzzle to put together, is it?”

“I’ll admit I was a fair bit surprised.” There was a moment of silence, as if he was weighing his options, before he continued. “It’s not an easy life.”

“No it’s not,” she mumbled. It’d been a bit of a surprise when Y’shtola had mentioned in passing that he was not native to Sharlayan like the rest of the Archons, that he shared a similar background as hers. Truly, if anyone would understand it’d be him and yet… Swallowing, she inhaled deeply to alleviate the unpleasant, prickling sensation of doubt in her chest. “Either way, I did not think Aisthal would actually seek me out, but I should have known better and warned you. She’s…”

“Vindictive?” He offered dryly when she trailed off.

Viana barked out a joyless laugh. “Yes, that she is.” She took a sip of the wine, barely registering the taste the liquid. A quick glance at him showed that he was just patiently observing her. Gods it was frustrating how unreadable he could be when he put his mind to it. So he really wasn’t going to drag it out of her, huh? It was tempting to keep silent and let the matter rest. But he had been rather rudely dragged into her ugly past. The least she could do was explain it to him.

He did deserve that much, at least.

Wetting her lips, Viana took a deep breath. “She… Aisthal was all I had when I grew up,” she began quietly. “’Us against the world’, she used to say, that it was up to us to look out for our group of kids…” The bitter sadness dripped off her words as her expression soured. Wonder how many of them were still alive? How many had been discarded along the way like broken tools that were no longer useful? “I didn’t want to stay in that life. Yet whenever I sought to make some honest bit of coin on the side, she always got angry with me.”

Viana gritted her teeth and swallowed. “And I never understood why I felt like it was my fault that she got upset… like I was betraying her by not wanting to steal from others, get tangled into the affairs of other, more vicious gangs and bully kids younger and smaller than us into sharing ‘for the benefit of the group’.”

There was a rough, disgruntled grunt from Thancred and she quickly looked back to him. “I know the type,” he responded gravely.

She made a quiet sound of acknowledgment. Limsa Lominsa was still cutthroat – she could only imagine how it might have been before admiral Merlwyb came to power and outlawed piracy. “I did not want to risk ending up in one of the pleasure houses, the gladiator pits or in the mines… so when I managed to find a mercenary group who were willing to take on a young girl and teach her some proper combat skills in exchange for performing cooking and maintenance duties around camp, I thought it was my one and only chance to get out of here.”

“Viana, you don’t have to tell me more than you want to,” Thancred interjected.

“No, I…” She glanced up at him, mustering a small smile. “I… think you deserve to know the whole deal, after that you got so thoroughly dragged into my ugly past like this.” 

There was an earnest look in his eye as he seemed to finally drop some of the pretences. “Neither of us have a spotless past,” he replied. “I’m hardly one to judge you.”

“I know, but I… was stuck in that life for a long time,” Viana murmured and a tight, unpleasant feeling made it hard to draw breath. 

Briefly, her gaze went to the sigils adorning his neck, before she diverted her eyes to stare down at the table. She wasn’t educated and smart, possessing vast knowledge of an entire field of study. By Halone’s frozen tits, she was left blinking like a dazed paissa whenever Y’shtola or Urianger, or the twins went off on some spiel about the inner workings of magic. Even as they’d been dwelling into the depths of the Crystal Tower, G’raha had still had to take the time to explain to her what he seemed to take as the basics of history.

Magic was something she’d never master. But at least Urianger had oblidged to let her borrow his books on history - it was the very least of an effort she could do to not be as much of a burden for the others.

“I’ve always been a bruiser. All I’m really good at is taking a punch and giving one back - Aisthal knew that.”

Thancred’s gaze felt heavy on her as she fiddled nervously with the goblet in her hands. Wetting her lips, she finally shrugged and hurried on with the last bits of her story before he had a chance to interject, “Anyhow, stupidly, I thought Aisthal wanted to leave that life behind as well. Instead, she went behind my back and tried to convince the mercenaries that I was a problem, unfit. Thankfully, she did not succeed.” Swallowing, she drained the rest of the goblet’s content in one sweep. “And when I confronted her about it she tried to make it out like I was the one abandoning her, that I was ungrateful and somehow wrong for wanting to do something else with my life than smuggle somnus, bribe and extort people, or...” With a deep exhale, she trailed off.

A heavy silence stretched out between them. As unpleasant as it was to recall those events, it was… nice to share. The questions of her background usually just pertained to whether she’d, like many others, escaped Ala Mhigo after the imperial occupation and most quickly let go after that. Only to Minfilia had she shared more of her past. By the Twelve, she missed her.

“Well, quite fair to say she have been nurturing a bit of a grudge.”

Snorting, Viana finally looked up at him again. His head was turned a bit to the side, with a faraway look in his eye as he stared out over the city.

“You think? Whatever tipped you off to that?”

The corner of his mouth curled with a smirk as their eyes met. “Why, is the esteemed Warrior of Light questioning my powers of observation?”

Raising an eyebrow, she smiled back. “Twelve forbid, I’d never dare to, _Master_ Thancred, Archon of the Scions of the Seventh Dawn.”

With a low, weary laugh Thancred moved to pour some more wine for them. His brow was drawn together as if he was contemplating something. Viana watched him quietly, waiting to see if he’d continue speaking. As he leaned back and took a sip from his goblet, there was a mix of fondness and sorrow in his expression, like whatever he was thinking of was a good memory but with the recollection came pain. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable, and she finally let her gaze sweep over Ul’dah's vast cityline, stark against the still bright oranges of the fading sunset. Suddenly, she felt aware of being more at peace than she had before. Perhaps it was about time that she stopped avoiding this city and its ghosts.

“I was young – no more than a scruffy child, really - when I had that seemingly one chance to get off the streets,” Thancred’s quiet voice broke the silence. Viana glanced back at him, her curiosity piqued. He didn’t look at her as he continued, his tone was low and reverent and gaze staring far off into the distance once more, “I was... lucky, that master Louisoix thought he saw something more in me than just another urchin who just tried and failed to pick his pockets. He could just as easily have had me thrown in the gaol.” Clearing his throat, he took another mouthful of wine.

Despite the sorrow that tinged his words, she could not help but smile faintly at the fondness mixed within. She hadn’t expected him to share anything of his own past, yet she was glad that he felt comfortable enough to do so. “It’s hard to imagine you as a boy,” she said gently.

Thancred chuckled and finally looked back to her. “Ah, my dear, I’d rather you did not,” he replied with a grin she was certain had caused many a heart to flutter over the years. A warmth rose to her cheeks, one she quietly blamed on the wine.

“Hey, Thancred?”

“Hm?”

“I… thank you.”

There was a brief pause before he gave her a small, but genuinely warm smile. “Anytime.”

They spent the rest of the evening comfortably speaking with each other of happier things, sharing a good meal and discussing what meagre findings they had to show from the day’s efforts.

It was hard to imagine then, in the glow from a few lanterns and with the vast night sky overhead, the chaos that would break out over Baelsar’s Wall a mere few weeks later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I cannot overstate my frustrations with writing endings. ._.
> 
> Now to try and channel away those 5.3 fears with fluff.


	18. Chasing Shadows (Thancred/WoL, post-5.2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “But I can’t help but worry when I’ll be an entire world away. It’s… different, being separated by just physical land, you know?”
> 
> “I understand what you mean.” He moved to stroke her cheek and she tilted her head into the touch while making a pleased noise at the back of her throat, her eyes drifting close for a moment as she basked in the warmth of his bare hand. “Are you leaving for the Source straight away tomorrow?”
> 
> “Yes,” she sighed, eyes still closed as he stroked her cheek with his thumb.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Post 5.2 MSQ. I headcanon that Eden 1-8 takes place between 5.1 and 5.2, so some name mentions of characters from those raids in here.  
There's some allusions to sex towards the end, but nothing explicit. A bit drabbly. I just wanted to vent out some nerves somehow. :)
> 
> ... honestly, I feel like this is me playing chicken with 5.3.

Viana watched, chin resting in her hand, as Thancred moved about his room. He was muttering under his breath, picking up various vials and bags from drawers and shelves, taking some and leaving others, before returning to where his equipment was spread out on the table in front of her.

Her own gunblade – newly cleaned, just like his – lay off to her side. She had been trying to read while he packed, but with the recent events, it was hard to concentrate. The lack of sleep she’d got probably did not help. Anger and frustration still simmered in her veins.

Wicked White, it’d been haunting to see Elidibus in Ardbert’s body. His mannerisms had been so close yet just so eerily… _off_. Like whatever part of the real Ardbert’s soul that lingered within her, could see the mummer’s farce for what it truly were. All too many times now, had she been forced to see a friend’s body get taken over and used by someone else.

“What time are you leaving?” she asked Thancred as he returned to the table with a couple of vials he’d refilled – antidotes to some of Norvrandt’s more common toxins, she knew from accompanying him to past trips to the Spagyrics

“At first daylight,” he replied. “Shouldn’t be hard to pick up the trail, and I’ve kindly been lent the Rookery’s swiftest amaro.”

Nodding, she looked around the table. Knives, his gunblade – with its maintenance kit remaining rolled out so he could make sure everything in it was as it needed to be – and a sturdy leather satchel with extra cartridges from Ryne, small vials and containers with various alchemical aids, lockpicks, rope, hardtack, flint and tinder… Well prepared for any situation, and then some. Though she knew he felt like his inability to teleport was a hindrance, she admired his resourcefulness. 

Had it been anyone else that Thancred was setting out to track, she would not have been overly concerned. But this was different – Elidibus was different. That insistent prickle of worry spiked in her chest again. 

Gods, she did not like the thought of leaving the First right now, and wished Thancred wasn’t going alone. It was hard not to let her thoughts to stray to all those years ago when he’d last set out to trace Ascian activities, and the outcome of it. Cold dread suddenly slid down her spine like ice.

Before she knew it, those old memories of the fiery inferno of the remains of the Praetorium snuck up on her; of Lahabrea’s heckling that his demise would mean that Thancred would perish with him, the fear that’d been lodged in her chest, praying, hoping she would not, despite the Ascian’s words, fatally injure his body, before that motherly voice in her ear whispered for her to bring forth the Light of Her blessing.

A lump formed in Viana’s throat, and she could almost swear the air was thick with the acrid scent of burning ceruleum, ash and smoke.

“Hey.”

Startled, she looked up to find Thancred at her side of the table. For a mere, dreadful heartbeat, all she could see was the gaunt, half-starved state he’d been in by the time she’d managed to break Lahabrea’s hold on him.

Thancred’s frown deepened, the concern clear on his face, and she realised she must have not heard him say something else. Blinking, she shook her head. “Forgive me, I got lost in thought,” she mumbled.

His hand was warm on her back as he sat down next to her and offered her a small, comforting smile. “Judging by that grimace, it can’t have been a pleasant one.”

Sighing, she rested her elbows on the table and rubbed her eyes. “It was the Praetorium,” she finally replied.

Thancred’s countenance darkened, as one could expect when reminded of such a dark and painful event. But then his features softened with understanding. Gently, he grasped her chin and leaned over to place a kiss to her forehead. “I’ll be fine,” he said softly.

Nodding slowly, Viana reached out to take his other hand in hers, turning her body towards him. They’d spoken about this at length – their duties as Scions came first, before their relationship. Neither of them wanted it to interfere with their responsibilities, even when it meant they’d had to be apart for long times. That did not make it any easier to part though.

“I know. You’re smart and damned well-prepared,” she replied while tracing his palm with her thumb, feeling the bumps of his callouses. Then she cast a glance at his gear that was so neatly spread out on the table. “But I can’t help but worry when I’ll be an entire world away. It’s… different, being separated by just physical land, you know?”

“I understand what you mean.” He moved to stroke her cheek and she tilted her head into the touch while making a pleased noise at the back of her throat, her eyes drifting close for a moment as she basked in the warmth of his bare hand. “Are you leaving for the Source straight away tomorrow?”

“Yes,” she sighed, eyes still closed as he stroked her cheek with his thumb. When she opened them again, Thancred was watching her with a fond smile that made tingling sparks of warmth dance in her chest. His eyes were so pretty when he actually, genuinely smiled. “I thought I’d see you off then head back to deal with whatever this new imperial weapon Gaius is barking about is before it compromises the Ala Mhigan border.”

At the mention of the former Legatus, Thancred’s expression soured again as if he’d bitten into a rotten onion. “You’ll be on your guard, right?”

The distrust was plain in his voice. Covering his hand with her own, Viana turned her head to press a kiss to his palm. “I honestly don’t think he’s a threat to Eorzea right now.”

“Emphasis on ’right now’,” he responded gruffly and brushed back some of her hair behind her ear.

“I know Thancred.” A wry smile curled the corner of her mouth. “Estinien seemed to have much the same impression, but just because Gaius happen to sit on useful intel right now, that does not mean I necessarily need to like working with the man.” A sour taste rose in her mouth. Truly, she’d been fine with letting him walk away unscathed out in the Burne – he had kept Alphinaud safe after all and returned his body to them. But seeing Gaius standing there in the halls of Ala Mhigo’s palace… by the Twelve, that old rage over the massacre Livia had led at the Waking Sands had been enough that she’d had to force herself to bite her tongue not to challenge him on what he’d done, the people who had been hurt because of him. Never mind the atrocities that Ala Mhigo had suffered.

Time would tell if he’d show any remorse for his actions, or if he still thought conquering Eorzea was ‘for the best’.

Thancred’s mouth remained pressed together in a tight line and his brow furrowed. For a moment, he looked like he’d say something else about Gaius, but ultimately decided to hold his tongue. Instead he grasped her hands in his, and squeezed. “How long do you think you’ll be gone?”

Viana shrugged. “If all goes well, probably just a few days. Before I left, I received word that Hien wanted to speak with me as well, so I will have to make a stop in Doma too.”

With a small nod of understanding, Thancred leaned closer. She met him halfway, resting her brow against his. “Busy as ever,” he murmured.

She huffed out a small, tired laugh, “Guess the relative peace and quiet is over for now, huh?”

“I fear so.” His thumbs rubbed the back of her fingers. It felt calming to sit like this with him, to just have a moment between the storms to soak in his presence. “You be careful too,” he breathed. “Promise me.”

“I always am,” Viana quietly reassured him and tilted her head to brush an innocent kiss to his lips.

Thancred didn’t let her withdraw much before he chased after her, the kiss slow and firm – as if he feared this would be the last chance he’d have to do so. She slipped one hand from his grip to caress his cheek before sliding it into his hair, twisting the soft strands between her fingers. The quiet hum that rose from his throat was muffled against her lips, a gentle touch to her jaw coaxing her to tilt her head so he could deepen the kiss a bit more. It was always too easy to loose herself in him, to for just a few precious seconds let all the fears buzzing in her head fall silent and just allow herself to exist in the moment.

A sudden knock on the door made them both freeze.

Reluctantly, Viana leaned back from him. Despite the disappointment that tugged at her, she gave him a small smile. Thancred returned it, a tender look in his eyes that spoke plainly for him. Clearing his throat, he looked to the door. “Yes?” he called out.

The door opened, and Ryne poked her head inside. When she saw them sitting next to each other, her eyes widened a little. “I’m not disturbing, am I?” she asked softly 

Viana shook her head and gave the young girl an earnest smile. Under the table, Thancred squeezed her hand one last time, before he got up to meet his young charge. “Of course not, Ryne,” he responded.

Ryne perked up and slipped inside, closing the door after her. She was clasping a small cloth pouch in her hands. “I finished a few more cartridges for you,” she explained as she held it out to Thancred.

Though Viana couldn’t see his expression, the warmth in his voice was evident as he took the bag from her hands, “I could go through the entirety of Vauthry’s sin eater horde with all this ammunition.”

Clasping her hands, Ryne glanced aside. “I know it’s a lot,” she responded, “But I just… wanted to make sure you have enough.”

Thancred reached out a hand and stroked her hair. “Thank you, Ryne, I appreciate it.”

There was a simple, fond happiness in Ryne’s eyes as she instantly looked back up at him.

Viana found it hard not to smile at the sight. They’d both come so far with each other, and clearly cared immensely for one another. Gods, she wished they’d be able to find a way to bring Ryne with them to the Source. Closing her book, Viana got up from the table and grabbed her gunblade and its kit. Thancred and Ryne instantly looked to her, a silent question in the former’s eyes.

“I better go and see that my own gear is in order before tomorrow,” Viana said with a small, apologetic smile. They deserved to have whatever time they had left together.

Instantly, Ryne’s expression filled with concern once more. “You’re leaving tomorrow as well, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” Viana replied. “But I’ll be seeing off Thancred before I do, so let’s save the good-byes for then, hm?”

Nodding, Ryne managed another small smile. “Alright.”

Smiling fondly, Viana gave her shoulder a squeeze, and then met Thancred’s gaze. “Sleep well, both of you.”

Thancred nodded, an understanding look in his eyes, “You too.”

“Good-night Viana.”

\-----

Truth was, there wasn’t much left for her to do. What little damages her gear had sustained during their venture down into the old ruins in the Tempest the day prior had been quickly fixed by the Crystaline Mean’s craftsmen. And any other supplies she might need, she could grab from her room at the Rising Stones before heading to Ala Mhigo.

After aimlessly looking through the items in her bags, Viana ultimately decided to just head to bed and try and catch up on some sleep, fitful though it may be.

However long it took before she actually fell asleep, it seemed like her mind had only just been claimed by that dark oblivion, when her eyes snapped open once more to the darkness of the night. Her entire body was tense and ready to twist around to confront the intruder that had a hand firmly pressed against her back.

“It’s just me.”

Exhaling, Viana relaxed back into the bed as she felt Thancred slip under the covers. The beat of her heart calmed, the sudden surge of adrenaline giving way to a gentle happiness that he’d slipped back to her room.

“By the Fury, you’re quiet,” she murmured into her pillow. Before she had a chance to roll over to face him, his arms wound around her as he fitted himself against her back and pressed a warm, lingering kiss to the slope of her neck.

“Forgive me, it’s a hard habit to shake,” he replied quietly. “But at least you didn’t elbow me this time.”

Snorting, she relaxed into his embrace, smiling to herself as she brushed a hand over his bare forearm. “You make it sound as if you were ready to duck out of the way,” she teased gently.

A puff of hot air tickled her skin, and she could feel the tremor of his low laugh against her back. “I do occasionally try to learn from my mistakes.”

With a thoughtful hum, Viana turned her head, “I seem to recall a few instances where you seemed ready to throw me to the ground after waking you.” 

“I guess we’re both twitchy when woken up,” Thancred mused and met her with a gentle kiss to her lips. It was short but sweet, and she smiled into it while stroking her fingers up over his arm. 

“That being said, I’m sorry I disturbed you,” he whispered as they parted.

“No, I’m glad you came.” A warm, content feeling bloomed in her chest, quickly lulling her senses back into a more drowsy state as she settled back down. Laughing softly under her breath, she added, ”I think I have begun to sleep better with you in bed than when I’m alone.”

Thancred made a low, rumbling sound of agreement. “I fear that may make two of us.” He nuzzled the nape of her neck, thumb idly rubbing against her stomach. To think that something as simple as his warm weight by her side would have such a calming effect, that she’d miss it so much when they were apart.

“How was Ryne faring?” Viana asked softly.

For a moment, he was quiet. “Worried,” Thancred finally responded. “She still wishes I’d let her come with me.”

Slowly, Viana wiggled around in his arms, turning to face him. In the dim light from the Crystal Tower filling the room, she could just make out his features. “She’s grown a lot,” she remarked. “You trained her well.”

At her back, his hand stilled, the press of his fingers against her skin betraying his sudden tenseness. “I’m not going alone because I doubt her abilities,” he replied tersely.

Sighing at his bristling attitude, she brushed a quick kiss to the tip of his nose. “I didn’t say you were, love.” When she felt him relax again, she reached out and caressed his cheek, smiling quietly to herself at the tickle of his hair against the back of her fingers. “Only that she’s come into her own.”

Thancred lay quiet, until he grasped her hand and pressed a kiss to the back of her fingers. It seemed like he was lost in thought as he kept rubbing his thumb over her knuckles.

The silence wasn’t entirely uncomfortable. In some respects, they were still feeling each other out, trying to learn each other’s cues in a more personal sense. But nothing in his demeanour made her think he was closing off the discussion, so she just stayed quiet and let him mull things over for a while. After a moment, she gave his hand a gentle squeeze. “A gil for your thoughts?” she asked softly.

Taking a deep breath, he brushed another kiss to her fingers. “Just thinking how she won’t need me around any longer.” Instantly, he scoffed, as if catching himself saying something ridiculous. “No, she hasn’t needed me in a while now.”

“Perhaps… doesn’t mean she hasn’t treasured your support though.”

Slowly, he moved to pull her closer and Viana wrapped her arm around him as he tucked her head under his chin. “It’ll be hard to say good-bye,” he murmured. “I’m glad she has Gaia, at the very least.”

Despite the sorrow she felt for him and Ryne having to part, a dark, ugly little thought prickled at the back of her mind. She bit her lip, arm tensing around him.

“What’s the matter?” Thancred asked, a note of alarm cutting through the rough drowsiness of his voice.

Twelve damn him for being so observant. Licking her lips, she worried the fabric of his night shirt between her fingers. “If you could stay… Would you?”

She regretted it the moment the last word left her mouth. A heavy silence followed her quiet question, and this time she did wonder if she had upset him.

Viana moved to look up at him, an apology on the tip of her tongue.

But Thancred spoke first. “I don’t know,” he replied, voice clipped. “I care for Ryne and want to see her kept safe, able to walk her path of choice in life, to be there for her as I should have been for Minfilia… but there are people I care about on the Source - people that were dear to Minfilia too. Garlemald is still a threat. I would not feel alright with sitting here, knowing you all most likely would be going to war upon your return.”

She hesitated for a moment, before quickly brushing her lips to his. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked that. I didn’t mean to... question you.”

“Apology accepted,” he answered with a sigh. His fingers brushed through her hair, the caress soothing some of her own unease and fears of upsetting him. “It’s not as if I have any option but returning before my soul loses it connection to my body.”

“I know,” she replied quietly. “It was still not my place to ask such a thing. I love you, and I want you to be happy.” A lump formed in her throat at the thought of leaving him behind, even if she would still be able to visit for some time, but she forced herself to continue. “However that may be.” It wasn’t even guaranteed they’d even be able to bring them all back to the Source. They just… spoke of it, as if it were a given.

Her fingers tensed, grasping at the fabric of his shirt as she instinctively moved to press her brow to his, their noses touching.

Thancred seemed to sense her unease, for he made a quiet, soothing sound. “My dear, I’m not planning on going anywhere. We have made it this far,” he spoke quietly, then tilted his head to give her an all too brief kiss that left her yearning for more. “Tomorrow will bring what it will.”

Viana nodded slowly, and they relaxed back into each other’s embrace, their legs a comfortable tangle. “Your way of telling me to stop worrying and just get back to sleep?”

“Maybe,” he hummed. The light touch of his fingers against the nape of her neck made her shiver as small tingles rolled down her spine. “Or are you too awake now?”

“Perhaps,” she replied quietly. Suddenly it was hard to ignore how his body fit against hers, how she could feel the warmth of him through the thin fabric of their clothes. Slowly, she slipped her hand down his side to innocently trace the bare skin above the waistline of his night pants.

A low, contemplative rumble rose from the back of Thancred’s throat as he suddenly pressed one thigh between hers. She inhaled sharply at the sudden sensation, her fingers digging into his waist. In the dim light, she could make out his smile. “I suppose we should make do with what time we have.”

The beat of her heart picked up, and without thinking of it she closed the small space between them to give him a slow, tender kiss. “Gladly,” she whispered against his lips.

Barely had she spoken the words before he returned the favour, his kiss hot and needy, almost as if he’d been holding himself back. The heat of desire quickly flared between them, hands roaming over each other, slipping beneath clothes before impatiently tugging them off and throwing them away into the darkness of the night. Quiet laughter and gentle endearments chased away the heavy dread for the future – both of them too determined to take this one last chance to commit each other to memory, to trace words of love into each other’s bare skin, as if it’d serve as a protective charm against the coming storm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is it tuesday yet. I'd like to stop being concerned. :'D


	19. Into the Abyss (SHB 5.0 MSQ)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It couldn’t have been more than a minute or two that they sat there, yet it felt like an hour before the white lights and stabs of pain slowly ebbed away once more and her breaths came a bit easier. Awkwardly, she loosened the vice-like grip she had on his coat sleeve, trying to will her hand not to tremble. “Forgive me,” she whispered harshly as she straightened her back.
> 
> She felt one of his hands leave her waist to cradle her jaw, keeping her from rising to her full height. “You are not the one I want apologies from,” he replied as he rested his brow to hers.
> 
> Despite his soft tone, there was a hard undercurrent to it that betrayed his anger at the situation, and those who had shepherded her towards this destination.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The obligatory end of 5.0 MSQ angst fic. :'D
> 
> Passing mention of Granson and the tank questline, as that's what I played while levelling through the MSQ.
> 
> I decided to split off this semi collection thing, and put everything post-5.3 under another title, so if you want more of my scribbles, it's 'In the Spaces Between' on my profile.

”Y’shtola, Urianger, _I need to know._”

Viana frowned at the elezen scholar where he remained seated on one of the undersea rocks. His head was lowered, whether in thought or to avoid her gaze she did not know. There was a twinge of guilt for the forceful tone she’d taken but this was no time to beat around the bush. Besides, focusing on them was better than letting her gaze stray to the silent, white-clad figure in her periphery that had remained stock still throughout this whole exchange.

Standing next to Urianger, Y’shtola crossed her arms, a disapproving frown of her own on her features. “I will not have you prematurely end your life,“ she responded firmly.

“And I am not planning to,” Viana replied sternly. “But I need to know that you can dispose of me if it comes down to it.” Despite trying not to, her eyes flickered to Thancred for just a second. His head was downturned, hair obscuring his face, but his posture was tense where he leaned against the rock wall. Her chest grew tight, and suddenly it felt hard to speak. Swallowing around the lump in her throat, she returned her attention to Y’shtola and Urianger. “I can’t ask any of you to strike me down - for all we know the Light will just corrupt whoever does it into another Lightwarden.”

As if to remind her, sparks of white suddenly danced at the edges of her vision. She bit back a groan as she closed her eyes, though she already knew it did nothing to lessen the glare of the flashes. “So, tell me, is there a way I could strand myself in the rift where the Light won’t harm anyone?”

“Opening a gate to transport thine there wouldst require preparations,” Urianger’s quiet voice replied. “The Exarch did not share how he planned to accomplish such a feat.”

Prickles of pain skittered up and down her spine, making her muscles tense under the weight of her gunblade and armour chafing against her suddenly hypersensitive skin. Forcing herself to keep her voice steady, she spoke slowly and firmly, “You had days while I lay unconscious.” The dizzying lights danced at the inside of her eyelids, as if taunting her. For all the things Urianger had concealed, right now she needed that resolve of his to do what was best for the worlds at large. “Don’t tell me you did not think of some way to do what G’raha- the Exarch had planned to do himself, or some other way to subdue me if it came to the worst.”

There was a brief silence. “There… may be some way, yes,” Urianger finally responded. “But I hath not the time to ascertain it to be an assured method to contain the aether thy harbour. If thou truly is able to traverse the Rift to the Source, mayhaps there wouldst be a way to prevent thy from reaching thy destination...”

Gritting her teeth, she nodded. “It’s better than nothing at all.” She wanted to see G’raha rescued, but she could feel the Light grinding away at her very being.

It was disorienting how slow her senses and reflexes were becoming – if they faced more opposition down here in the sea trenches she’d have to let Thancred take the lead in whatever fights there were. Her limbs felt too stiff, as if her skin was already in the process of turning into fine porcelain, and the familiar weight of her gunblade seemed too heavy in her hands.

And it wasn’t just her physical body that was affected. Though she had not said anything to the others, while imbuing some of her cartridges with aether she’d felt like the usually easy task took more effort than usual, like her aether was stagnating. In this state, she’d just be a danger to herself, and more importantly, a hazard to the others if she failed to intercept a blow meant for one of them.

As the flare of pain stilled to a mulling, lingering ache, a numbing, cold sensation of fear flared in her chest in its stead. Would she even be able to see this to the end before whatever Ryne had done to contain the Light failed?

A hand on her arm made her open her eyes to find Y’shtola at her side. Her expression was determined, though Viana had known her long enough to catch the traces of concealed worry in her expression. “Whatever Emet-Selch has in store for us, I for one will fight to see you ridden of this burden, my friend.” She turned her head ever so slightly, glancing back towards Urianger and Thancred. “We all will.”

“I know,” Viana replied quietly. “And I hate asking it of you three…” She sensed the weight of Thancred’s eyes on her then, and swallowed, her throat feeling as dry as if she’d swallowed a mouthful of sand. “But… if I’m turning,” she spoke, slow and firm. Urianger finally looked up and she met his golden gaze. The guilt hung heavily over his features. “I need to know you all will do what is necessary, whatever that may entail. Contain me, seal me away until you can dispose of me.”

He closed his eyes for a moment, but nodded. “Thy will shall be done.”

A small, tired smile tugged at her lips. “Thank you, it eases my mind to know that.”

The sound of the twins’ bickering drifting through the cave made them all glance in the direction of where they and Ryne had gone to scout ahead in the tunnels. It felt wrong to keep this conversation from them, but Twelve, she knew none of them would accept the idea.  
Y’shtola cast one discerning glance in Thancred’s direction then turned to Urianger. “Let us hear what they’ve found.”

Urianger nodded and got up, but paused for a moment. “I swore to thee that I wouldst see this made right,” he spoke quietly. “Have faith my friend, and we shall prevail.”

“My faith in you all never waver, Urianger,” Viana replied with a small, reassuring smile. There was a flicker of something akin to relief in his expression, and he finally managed a hesitant smile of his own before following Y’shtola to meet the younger members of their group.

As their steps faded away, leaving her alone with Thancred in the small seafloor grotto, he pushed away from the wall he had been leaning against. When she bridged the gap between them with a few slow steps, he glanced up at her. There was a hard determination to his eyes, but there was pain there too.

Reaching out, she took his hand in hers, not sure what to say. Thancred’s fingers were cold where they were left exposed by his gloves - her own were not faring much better - but it was a welcome skin on skin contact before he laced his with hers. The comforting weight of his other arm settled around her waist, hugging her close so he could press his cold nose against the side of her neck. Inhaling slowly, she closed her eyes and rested her cheek against his hair, wrapping her other arm around his shoulders. The scent of salt, fish and seaweed clung to him, but she could detect that earthy, masculine tone, laced with gunpowder, that she associated with him - a comforting reminder of the few private moments they’d been afforded in the past weeks.

“It won’t come to that,” he broke the silence with a gruff murmur. “You will be fine.”

She knew it was as much to reassure himself as her. Unbidden, her thoughts strayed back to that first morning she’d woken to him tracing the scars on her back. Despite the heavy subject it’d sparked, the intimate warmth of that moment, the joy she’d felt just resting in his arms, the tender look in his eyes and heartfelt smile… it was a sharp contrast to the cold that seemed to have seeped so deep into her bones that she wondered if she’d ever feel warm again. Drawing a slow, shuddering breath she squeezed his hand. Had it truly only been a few weeks since then? Would that she somehow could turn back the clock to be back in that moment with him again.

But the path would lead here again no matter what.

A sudden flare of pain made Viana groan as white sparks once more danced behind her eyelids. Vaguely, she was aware of his hand slipping from hers to hold her steady when her knees threatened to give out from under her. It felt like something jagged was logged in her chest, making it hard for her to draw breath.

“Easy there, I’ve got you…” Thancred’s low voice spoke in her ear. Trembling, she tried to focus on him and not the pain or the panic that bubbled right under the surface of it. The searing pain in her chest continued, her breaths pained wheezes while hot tears stung at her eyes and slid down her cheeks. 

Thancred kept murmuring into her ear while holding her steady, even as she leaned more and more of her weight onto him. Had he not, she would probably have tumbled to the hard seafloor as she jerked to the side and finally, after a series of rib cracking coughs, spat out more of that viscous white fluid. Nausea curled in her stomach at the cloying, numbing feeling it left in her mouth. It was like having a mouthful of fine, gooey sand in texture.

With a trembling hand, she reached for the water canteen hanging off her belt, but Thancred’s hand was already on the clasp, and pressed the cool metal container into her hand.

“Here,” he spoke as he quickly unscrewed the top.

Choking out her thanks amidst the waves of pain, Viana took a quick mouthful of the water, eager to clear her mouth of the vile liquid. Thancred said nothing, just kept her steady when she leaned to the side and spat out the white-tinted water.

She felt him press a brief kiss to her cheek as he steadied her once more, arms securely wrapped around her. These attacks weren’t getting any easier. Shivering, she cradled the canteen in her hands and rested her head on his shoulder, wishing for the pain to subside.

“Better sit down for a moment,” he said quietly.

Nodding, still with her eyes closed, she let him lead her. White sparks still danced behind her eyelids and there was an unpleasant, crawling sensation at her back, as if her skin was shifting and changing form.

Thancred knelt in front of her as he helped sit down on a low rock, staying there with his arms wrapped around her while murmuring soothing words in her ear to ease her through the waves of pain. She was not used to feeling small, or vulnerable or _weak and fragile_. Ever since she’d left Ul’dah as a teen she’d been used to shouldering her own problems, to carry on no matter what happened. But as she curled herself around Thancred’s solid frame, there was comfort in not having to hide her quiet whimpers while she kept her face pressed against the crook of his neck, to just allow herself to be held and supported without fear of judgment or pity.

It couldn’t have been more than a minute or two that they sat there, yet it felt like an hour before the white lights and stabs of pain slowly ebbed away once more and her breaths came a bit easier. Awkwardly, she loosened the vice-like grip she had on his coat sleeve, trying to will her hand not to tremble. “Forgive me,” she whispered harshly as she straightened her back.

She felt one of his hands leave her waist to cradle her jaw, keeping her from rising to her full height. “You are not the one I want apologies from,” he replied as he rested his brow to hers.

Despite his soft tone, there was a hard undercurrent to it that betrayed his anger at the situation, and those who had shepherded her towards this destination.

He shifted slightly, his nose nuzzling against hers - a motion that had quickly become familiar to her. The memory of Tesleen turning flashed before her mind’s eye. A hard jolt of fear made her jerk her head to the side before he could kiss her - fear that some of that tainted ichor might still linger on her lips, of somehow passing on the corruption festering within her to him.

Thancred froze, hazel eyes seeking hers.

Tears stung in her eyes while her heart ached for that small bit of intimacy. Blindly, she set the canteen aside and grasped his wrist, pressing a kiss to the back of his fingers, where they were covered by his gloves. “I’m sorry I just… the Light… it corrupts, I don’t…”

“It’s okay,” he whispered, the harsh, jagged edges of regret and sorrow all too clear in his voice. “I understand.”

All of a sudden, she felt cruel. If that argument in Twine had gone differently, if she had not been angry enough to accidentally let slip what she’d hid away in the depth of her heart, then… then perhaps he would not have kissed her and they would have just kept ignoring this that lay between them. Perhaps then he would have an easier time to let go of her, to just mourn her as a friend, rather than something more - forever a ‘what maybe could have been’ instead of something real and tangible, something that felt good, and sweet and _right_ that was cut short by the cruelty of the universe.

A hot tear rolled down her cheek. Death was something she had made peace with a long time ago. Yet, this primordial force that was threatening to break free and twist her very being into something wretched and relentless, it scared her to her very core. It would not be clean, or final. Some part of her would linger, like fragments of a cup that had been shattered against the wall, its contents still barely clinging to the shards.

The mere thought of turning on him and the others made nausea twist and coil in her stomach. Thancred was smart - he must know that it was a very real possibility that he might have to fight her, to buy the others time to contain her were she to suddenly lose control. Even if she knew for sure that striking her down would not corrupt the next person into another Lightwarden, she could not ask that of him. Not after seeing first-hand how that act of putting down a loved one had festered and eaten away at Granson nearly to the brink of ruin.

Regret and grief were such potent emotions.

Drawing a slow, shuddering breath, she closed her eyes. “Thank you, for everything, Thancred,” she whispered. “They’ve been dear to me, these past few weeks.” Would that she had had more time with him.

Thancred moved slightly, slipping his hands from hers to cradle her jaw. His thumbs brushed over over her cheekbones as he held her gaze. A turmoil of emotions swirled in his eyes, his brow furrowed and jaw clenched. “I’m not going anywhere yet,” he spoke firmly. “So don’t you _dare_ try to tell me good-bye now. Not when we still have a chance to defeat that Ascian and somehow fix this.” There was a flicker of despair over his features, a momentary crack in his stern facade. “Just don’t.”

Viana blinked at him, then slowly nodded as she swallowed. “You’re right.” When she woke in the Crystarium, she had not planned on quitting, to just go quietly and let whatever Emet-Selch said come to pass. She’d fight for this world, and herself. For Thancred, the twins, Y’shtola, Urianger, Ryne and G’raha. For the Source.

Faint though it was, hope did remain.

A small smile curled the corner of Thancred’s mouth, though it did not reach his eyes. Leaning up, he pressed his lips to her forehead. “There’s that determined look I know so well.”

Huffing out a tired laugh, she nodded. “Alright, let’s do this then.”

Viana gathered up her canteen and returned it to her belt, then stood up on only slightly unsteady legs. Thancred squeezed her hand reassuringly as they left the small grotto to find the others. She’d draw her strength from his support, and that of her friends’, as they pushed onwards, further into the darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now I think I'll waddle off and write something happy and fluffy and maybe smutty.


	20. Frozen Affright (Eden 8, Ryne&WoL, Thancred/WoL)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ryne sat down at the other end of the seat and drew Thancred’s coat close around herself. She was carrying a blanket in her arms as well, but made no move to wrap herself in it. Instead, she picked at the sleeve of the coat that hung well down to her forearm. “He said it’d help rejuvenate your aether,” she replied softly.
> 
> Glancing at her, Viana took another mouthful of the beverage, observing her hunched up shoulders and downcast gaze. It was a stark reminder of how she’d carried herself just a short while ago, when she’d still walked in the shadow of Minfilia’s memory and image. A prickle of concern rose in her chest, and she slowly lowered the mug to rest it in her lap. “How are you feeling?” Viana asked gently. “You gave me quite a scare back there.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Technically 5.2 but I headcanon that Eden 1-8 takes place between 5.1 and 5.2, since the cited reason for Thancred, Ryne and Urianger being busy in 5.1 is Eden so I imagine they're doing research and investigation stuff at that time. Just feels neater in the narrative to have Eden done before 5.2 too since Thancred goes off on his little mission then. >_>
> 
> Anyway, pretty much a "What's that? Everyone walking off with no injuries? Nah, no drama in that." fic with a dash of "comforting of rattled teenager". There's a passing reference to the events in "Ghosts of the Past" that's number 16 in this jumbled collection fics, but nothing that's required to be read.
> 
> Usual disclaimer that english is my secondary language, so you're welcome to point out any mistakes I may have made.

_“The Light… it’s too much for her to bear! She won’t last much longer!”_

_“Then help her!”_

\---

“Seven swiving Hells, Thancred!”

Several more curses that could make a Limsan dockworker blush like a Ishgardian maiden were right at the tip of her tongue, but Viana clenched her teeth together when the sharp pricks that shot up from the side of her waist caused her to reflexively jerk her body to the side. Another sharp lance of pain followed when she, in doing so, jostled her broken arm in its makeshift sling. Groaning, she nearly wrenched her leg out of Urianger’s careful grip in the process. The pain twined together with her exhaustion, forming into a roiling sense of nausea.

Urianger glanced up at her with a concerned furrow between his brow, before securing his hold on her leg once more.

Before she had a chance to apologise to him, a firm hand landed on her uninjured shoulder, fingers digging into her skin. “Stay still,” Thancred bit out.

Unease instantly bristled in her chest at his rough tone. Rather than snapping back at him, she screwed her eyes shut and bit out another muffled curse while trying to sit still once more. Evidently satisfied, Thancred returned to applying the healing ointment to the burn on her waist. Despite his less than happy tone, his touch felt gentle as he worked - not that it prevented the salve from prickling and stinging at her raw skin.

“Prevail for just a few more moments, my friend,” Urianger’s soothing voice chimed in as he continued wrapping bandages around her injured ankle.

Viana made a noise at the back of her throat, brow knitted together in a frown, while worrying the edge of the blanket pooled around her waist with her one good hand. A few bruised ribs, several burns and some cuts, a broken arm and sprained ankle had been the final tally of this adventure.

Normally, she could deal with pain fairly well - but between her aether being utterly spent in that desperate dash to weaken Shiva so Gaia could help Ryne regain control, the primal’s unnatural chill that still wrecked her body, and the emotional fatigue, she just felt tired and all too sensitive to every twinge and jolt of pain. Lingering out here in the Empty, even now with the aether starting to rebalance itself, was draining as it were. Her head throbbed and all she really wanted to do was to sleep. Preferably in a warm bed, and not the uncomfortable cots they had out here in the Empty.

An irrational twinge of annoyance at herself made her grit her teeth once more. Seven Hells, she’d gotten soft over the years since joining the Scions - sleeping off injuries in a proper bed had been the very rarest of luxuries for most of her life. Ten-fifteen years ago, when she’d been a young mercenary fresh off the unforgiving streets of Ul’dah, a cot would have been more than fine for her.

Perhaps prodded by the unwanted memories of nurturing one wound or another while on the road, Viana’s attention drifted towards the tent where Ryne lay resting under Gaia’s watchful eye. Worry instantly rose like bile in her throat, and with it an unpleasant, heavy weight over her chest. It’d scared her half to death when Ryne had passed out in Thancred’s arms before they’d even made it back to camp, clearly having spent herself utterly on struggling to control Shiva and the Light.

What a reckless idea this had all been. She should have followed her gut, put her foot down and refused to go ahead with it. Surely it hadn’t been necessary to replicate Ysayle’s summoning method so precisely as they had.

Though they were all used to close calls by now, this had all been too close for comfort - not just for them personally, but for the rest of the First as well. Viana swallowed around the lump in her throat and stared out over the sparse greenery that had sprouted around their campsite. Done was done but… it was hard to shake off the dread of what could have happened. Hopefully, Ryne would regain consciousness soon and be able to see the fruit of their efforts. No doubt she’d be pleased to see that their efforts had not been in vain.

Viana could only hope that seeing that joy might scatter the clouds of turmoil raging in her chest.

“Raise your arm.”

Thancred’s gruff command stirred her from her thoughts. Silently, she did as he asked. He was careful not to jostle her broken arm where it was secured against her chest as he wrapped bandages around her midsection to hold the medical dressing over the burn in place.

Another sharp lance of pain made her bite back a wince and screw her eyes shut. But slowly, the pressure from the bandages evened out and the stinging from the salve mulled into a dull but not outright painful throb.

The silence hung heavy over all three of them, until Urianger gently set down her securely bandaged foot. “I do not fear thy injury to be severe,” he spoke, “though I wouldst ask thee to abstain from any and all attempts to move without sufficient support to keep thy weight of thy injured foot, lest you may exacerbate it for thy efforts.”

“So you’re saying I shouldn’t do any merry jigs then,” Viana drawled.

Urianger made a soft sound of amusement. “As formidable as thou are my friend, I wouldst advice against such endeavours. A few days of rest wouldst be preferred.”

She cracked her eyes open and gave him a halfhearted smile. “Thank you Urianger, I’ll try to.” There was a careful tug on her raised arm, and she obediently lowered it once more.

As he rose back up from his crouch, accompanied by the melodic tinkle of his jewellery, Urianger’s golden gaze softened a little, and briefly flickered past her shoulder, over to Thancred. “I imagine thou shall not be left for want of assistance whilst thou recuperate.”

Viana followed his line of sight to glance over her shoulder. Thancred’s brow was furrowed, eyes focused on where he was securing the bandages. “Indeed not,” he replied firmly. “Can’t have the Warrior of Darkness tripping and falling in front of half the Crystarium while trying to make it to her room, can we.” Satisfied with his work, he carefully pulled her shirt back down over the bandages.

“That’s a bit dramatic, love.”

Finally, he looked up. There was heavy tension around his eyes, a storm of emotions still raging in them, his jawline hard.

Mustering a hopefully comforting smile despite her fatigue, she tilted her head to the side. “I’m fine.”

The hard lines in Thancred’s expression softened a little, but before he had a chance to reply, a muffled shout made their attentions snap to the tents.

“She’s awake!” Gaia declared as she burst through the tent flap. For a moment, she frantically looked around for something, until she snatched up a spare blanket and water bottle from atop the supply crate where Thancred had left them before.

“Gaia, I’m fine, I-”

Ryne, with Thancred’s coat still hanging off her shoulders, pushed aside the tent flap. Even the brief appearance of her, before Gaia promptly shooed her back into the tent with a series of stern admonishments and gripes about how troublesome she was being, was enough for some of the tension to seep out of Viana’s back and her breaths come a little bit easier, her shoulders drooping with relief.

Thancred stood up. Viana looked back to him, but to her surprise, he merely kicked the crate he’d been sitting on over to her left side, sat down and grabbed a towel and water bottle from the supplies strewn about.

“Wilt thou not rush to her aid?” Urianger asked.

She watched silently as Thancred wet a corner of the towel, then took her uninjured hand and set about cleaning away traces of blood that still lingered after that Urianger had healed the shallow cuts and bruises. “Perhaps I’m getting slow in my old age,” he replied casually, “because it would seem Gaia’s beaten me to it.”

The voices of the two young girls, though muffled from within the tent, were still audible from where the three of them were sitting, and the air felt a little less still and suffocating with that quiet murmur to fill the void.

“To think that she would be the one to break the ice,” he muttered under his breath.

Pain and fatigue momentarily forgotten, Viana carefully leaned over and pressed a kiss to his forehead. He grew still for a moment, then sighed and looked up at her and then Urianger with a faint smile on his lips. “They may have gotten off to a rocky start, but I think they’ll make quite the pair, if given a bit more time.”

“Is that a hint of melancholy I detect in thy voice?” Urianger mused, his deep voice warm with gentle amusement. “Something akin to a pining mother bird whose chicks have flown the nest…?”

Thancred’s eyes went wide at the teasing accusation, and Viana failed to contain a smile at the sight. Just then, the soft peal of Ryne’s laughter and Gaia’s flustered and fervent denial about something drifted over. His gaze flickered towards the sound, then his expression softened with resignation and fondness. “Father bird, if you don’t mind.”

Warm affection prompted Viana to lace her cold fingers with his and gave his hand a weak squeeze. He quickly bent his neck to press a kiss to the back of her hand, thumb rubbing alongside it as he folded his other hand over her fingers, lending some of his warmth to chase away the chill.

“But aye, you’re not entirely wrong,” Thancred continued, eyes downcast and a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “When the day finally comes to say goodbye, it heartens me to know she won’t be alone.”

Despite his soft tone, it was hard not to notice the sorrow that laced his words. Viana swallowed thickly. Not for the first time since Emet-Selch’s defeat, she felt her chest grow tight with anguish for Thancred and Ryne’s unavoidable separation. The sharp, dark feeling clashed with her own yearning to see their souls safely returned to the Source, tangling into a thorny ball of guilt for wanting her family back at the cost of what they’d all gained here at the First. 

“Thancred-” she began, and without thinking, twisted her body towards him. A searing hot flash of pain instantly made her freeze up with a groan, her words of reassurance catching in her throat.

Thancred’s head immediately shot up, his gaze narrowed with worry. Exhaustion came crashing back down over her, no longer content to be held at bay with discussions of things that still lay in the future.

Grimacing at a sudden wave of vertigo, she slipped her hand from his and rubbed at her eyes. “‘S fine,” she mumbled. “Forgive me.”

“Perhaps, we ought to make an expeditious return to Amh Araeng,” Urianger spoke up. “Though the area is stabilizing, lingering wouldst be unwise.”

She felt Thancred pull up the blanket around her shoulders, wrapping it tightly around her. “That may be for the best, yes.”

Despite her quiet attempt to convince him to go check on Ryne, Thancred picked her up, blanket and all, and carried her the short distance to their transportation, with Urianger following close behind to assist if needed. Shivering, Viana briefly rested her head on Thancred’s shoulder, her eyes feeling too heavy to keep open. The leather of his cuirass was cold against her cheek, and a distant, half-formed thought flitted through her mind - a yearning to just lie curled up next to him, to bask in the comforting warmth of his body pressed against hers.

With her injuries it was a little awkward to get into the skyslipper, but with some help from Thancred and Urianger she was soon able to hop over and sink down into the back seat. Exhaling slowly, Viana leaned her head back, her eyes closed. “Thank you,” she murmured. Twelve, she hadn’t felt this worn out since her near fatal tussle with Zenos. Even expelling the Light against Emet-Selch had left her feeling less sore than this.

Or maybe it was less physical exhaustion and more emotional.

“I’ll join you soon, Urianger,” Thancred said, and there was a soft affirmative followed by Urianger’s footsteps retreating back to the camp.

Carefully, she tried to pull the blanket back up over her shoulders, only for Thancred to do it instead. With a quiet sigh, she caught his hand and opened her eyes.

Thancred immediately froze, meeting her gaze. His jaw was still tense and his brow furrowed in a clearly unhappy expression. It was an unpleasant reminder of his tense demeanour when they’d ventured down into the depths of the sea to search for Emet-Selch.

Mustering a tired smile, Viana squeezed his hand. “I will be fine, Thancred; go to her.”

He hesitated for a moment, then leaned down and pressed a kiss to her cheek. “Yell if you need something.”

“Will do, love.”

\-----

Despite the aches in her body, she managed to doze off into a fitful sleep that was light enough that she was distantly aware of the comforting murmurs of other’s voices, and the occasional footsteps of someone carrying something to the storage at the rear of the skyslipper.

“Viana?”

The soft, worried voice made her blink her eyes open. Ryne met her gaze, grey eyes wide with concern. Thancred’s coat was still draped over her shoulders, her smaller frame drowning in it. Mustering a smile, Viana carefully sat up a little straighter. “Something wrong, Ryne?” 

Ryne held out a mug towards her. “Urianger prepared this for you.”

Gingerly, she worked free her arm from the blankets and accepted the mug from her. Steam rose from the ruby red liquid within. “Thank you.” A sweet, tart scent filled her nose when she carefully took a sip of the drink. It tasted much the same, clearly masking the taste of something herbal. The warmth from it settled in her stomach, chasing away some traces of the chill. “Tastes like pixieberries,” she mused.

Ryne sat down at the other end of the seat and drew Thancred’s coat close around herself. She was carrying a blanket in her arms as well, but made no move to wrap herself in it. Instead, she picked at the sleeve of the coat that hung well down to her forearm. “He said it’d help rejuvenate your aether,” she replied softly.

Glancing at her, Viana took another mouthful of the beverage, observing her hunched up shoulders and downcast gaze. It was a stark reminder of how she’d carried herself just a short while ago, when she’d still walked in the shadow of Minfilia’s memory and image. A prickle of concern rose in her chest, and she slowly lowered the mug to rest it in her lap. “How are you feeling?” Viana asked gently. “You gave me quite a scare back there.”

She immediately flinched and pressed her lips together. “I’m fine! But…” Pausing abruptly, she pulled at an errant thread coming loose from the coat sleeve, before she looked back up, eyes wide and face grim. “I’m sorry, I thought I could handle it,” she blurted out, her voice sharp with anguish. “I thought I could control Shiva, like Ysayle did.” Bowing her head once more, she looked like she wanted to curl up and hide herself away from the rest of the world in Thancred’s coat. “I thought I was strong enough. And because I wasn’t, you got hurt.”

The anguish and distress in her soft voice made Viana’s heart clench. It was swiftly followed by a sense of unease as she was all too aware that Ryne was, in some regards, still younger than her counted years, having missed out on so much growing up in that cell in Eulmore, and only now finding her own two feet in the world.

Taking a deep breath, Viana gave a small, thoughtful hum. “Perhaps you bit off more than you could chew,” she began, keeping her voice even and calm - the last thing she wanted was for Ryne to think she placed any blame on her. “And perhaps it was reckless, and I should have been firmer with my disagreement with your plan.” Carefully, she balanced the mug between her knees, freeing up her hand to reach out and put it on Ryne’s back. “But that is part of growing up - I’m just glad that we were all here, Gaia included, to help when it went sideways.”

Slowly, uncertainly, Ryne looked back up. Apprehension and a fear of rejection was so evident in her eyes. “You’re not angry with me? Even though I talked you into this?”

Shaking her head, she gave her a soft smile. “_Gods no_, I’m not. I’m just glad you’re unharmed.” Raising her eyebrows, she fixed her with a discerning look. “You are unharmed, right?”

Ryne’s shoulders drooped slightly with a relieved exhale and she hugged the blanket closer to her chest while giving a small nod. “I am. Thancred... told me to go here and rest while they pack up the tents.”

Something about the hesitation in her voice made Viana frown in concern. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m… worried that... he’s upset with me.”

By reflex, her gaze flickered towards the campsite. “He’s not, I’m sure of it.”

Ryne was chewing on her bottom lip when she looked back up. “He seemed unhappy.”

Without thinking of it, Viana gently pulled at her shoulder, and Ryne shuffled closer, seemingly by instinct, until she was curled up against her side. “Thancred isn’t angry at you,” Viana spoke quietly while absently stroking a hand over Ryne’s hair.

“How can you be so sure?” She asked softly. “He was even more against this idea than you were.”

A small smile quirked the corner of Viana’s mouth. “Because I’ve known him long enough by now.” Letting her arm settle around Ryne’s shoulders, she gave her the best version of a hug that she could muster at that time. “What did he say to you after you’d woken up?”

“He asked if I was injured, and seemed relieved when I said I was not,” Ryne responded slowly. “But he never seemed to relax, even as I told him I was fine. I… I was worried about you too.” She trailed off, and even with his coat around her smaller frame, Viana could feel her tremble. “He seemed so… closed off.”

Mentally, Viana sighed. Twelve, perhaps she should have done more to try and ease him out of that state of mind. If only she hadn’t been so exhausted and raw with the injuries she’d sustained. “He’s upset with himself - not you,” she said gently, “because what could have happened scared him, and made him fear that he’d lose you too. Give him a few more hours, and he’ll have calmed down.”

“Oh…” With that quiet exhale, Viana felt Ryne’s entire body relax, the weight settling against her side as her head came to rest on her shoulder.

It was then that she felt how she was trembling. Concern instantly shot through her, and she gave Ryne a careful look. “You’re still shivering.”

She looked up, expression relaxed and void of the turmoil and anguish of mere moments ago, and gave a tired smile, looking for all the world like the exhaustion had finally caught back up with her. “It’s just the cold.”

“Here, help me with the blankets.”

Ryne did as she asked, and soon they were both huddled beneath them, sharing the warmth.

“Thank you, this is nice.”

Ryne’s quiet murmur and the earnest tone, made Viana smile to herself. A familiar sort of fond contentment, one she often felt around the twins, warmed her chest. “Anytime,” she replied softly. For all that Ryne had come into her own and acted with much more confidence, it was hard to forget how much of her life had been void of much personal contact. In the back of her head she heard Thancred’s quiet musings about how neither he nor Ryne had any experience with family, and despite it they’d managed to work things out relatively well.

Taking a slow breath, Viana looked out towards the campsite. Somehow, the small area looked even more chaotic, with parts of tents, cots and supply crates strewn about while the other three worked on their respective tasks. She had no knowledge of how it was to grow up with a family either - for all her childhood and teens the prospect of a family, where people cared for and supported each other, had been used as a toxic web by her supposed friend to control and manipulate those around her.

Even now with the time that had passed since then, recalling the last time she’d seen Aisthal still left a bitter taste in her mouth. It was a memory with two sides to it - the bitterness of facing her old friend once more and being reminded of the vicious criminal life that’d caused her to leave Ul’dah in her late teens, contrasted with Thancred’s steadfast and comforting presence that night.

Remembering how he’d distracted her with lighthearted tales and conversations about their friends until she’d calmed down, Viana cast a quick glance down at Ryne. “How do you think this place will look once it’s fully recovered?”

Ryne made a quiet, thoughtful sound, her head still resting against her shoulder. “I can’t help but hope that there’ll be plenty of flowers,” she replied, reverence and wonder so clear in her voice. “Bright, colourful ones, like in Il Mheg.”

Viana nodded slowly while looking out over the still desolate white hills in the distance. It was easy to picture them covered in high green grass and flowers in all the colours of the rainbow. “Yes, that sounds nice.” Looking back to Ryne, she smiled and tensed the arm around her smaller frame in a slightly awkward hug. “Maybe you could show the sights of Il Mheg to Gaia? Pack those coffee biscuits and other snacks, and enjoy them outside in the sun on one of those hills by Urianger’s house?”

An endearing look of embarrassment flickered across Ryne’s features. “Oh, I’m not sure... “ Slowly, her gaze drifted over towards the camp while her expression softened into something thoughtful. “Do you think she’d like that?”

Shrugging with one shoulder, Viana made a thoughtful noise at the back of her throat. “Maybe? Won’t know until you ask her.”

“It would be fun, I think…” When their eyes met again, there was a contemplative look on Ryne’s face before she smiled. “Yes, it's worth asking, I suppose.”

“After this, I think you’ve both earned yourself a bit of fun,” Viana hummed in response. Twelve, both them and the twins deserved every minute of carefree, lighthearted fun. They were still teenagers, too young to weighted down by all the burdens of adulthood - the weariness, the cynicism, the scars that never went away.

Sitting up a little straighter, Ryne fixed her with a firm and determined look. “So have you!”

Surprised, Viana blinked at her, then smiled sheepishly. “Alright, alright, no need to look like that,” she replied, and only just managed to bite back the reply that her injuries would keep her confined to her room for a few days anyhow. “I promise I’ll do so if a chance presents itself in the near future.”

Ryne settled back down again. “Good. You’re all always working so terribly hard.” There was a brief pause, before she quietly, under her breath, continued, “I don’t want any of you to wear yourself out.” Suddenly, she failed to stifle a yawn.

Smiling fondly, Viana gave her another one-armed hug. “Perhaps we should rest, before Thancred gets his feathers in a ruffle because of us.”

Her only response was another quiet hum. With a slow exhale, Viana relaxed back against the seat. Somehow, despite the dull aches in her body, the weight of Ryne against her side was oddly comforting, as the exhaustion crept up over her once more.

\----

Thancred frowned as he turned over Viana’s cuirass in his hands. A sour taste rose in his mouth as he brushed his fingers over the scuffed and battered surface where one of Shiva’s light aspected attacks had burned her. The section would need to be replaced, along with a few others that had been too damaged by sword slashes or magical attacks. Quickly, he stuffed the cuirass on top of the rest of her gear in her customary travelling satchel, and with it, the dark thoughts that kept skulking at the edges of his mind. Closing up the satchel with brisk movements, he rose to his feet and hefted up the bag onto his shoulder.

Picking up the slim belt with Ryne’s daggers - undamaged, despite that she had been wearing it at the time of the summoning - he put it too over his shoulder, then retrieved Viana’s gunblade from where Gaia had been quick to discard it upon their arrival at camp, far more concerned with Ryne as she had been.

His scowl deepened when he gave it a critical onceover, his mouth suddenly dry. “Seven Hells,” he muttered. Scorch marks stained the steel near the cartridge chamber. A disconcerting sight, for sure. Had she overloaded it when breaking the ice around Shiva so Gaia could get to her?

Whichever way, he’d best disassemble it when they got back to the Crystarium and better judge the internal damage before he delivered it to the craftswoman at the Means who usually oversaw their gunblade and armour repairs. And, he could ask Viana later what she’d done - sometime when he didn’t feel like turmoil still rested in his chest like a ball of thorns. With a deep sigh, Thancred walked back to where the last few of their things were being packed up by Urianger.

“I’ll take these up to the skyslipper,” Thancred said as he picked up his own gunblade where it was leaning against a crate.

Urianger gave a small nod in reply. “It shan’t be much longer before we can depart.”

The sooner the better, Thancred felt as he began walking.

Gaia was hurrying back from the skyslipper with a look of determination on her face. She paid him no mind as they passed by each other - clearly she was eager to get out of the Empty as well.

A shiver crept down Thancred’s spine. Despite his inability to channel aether anymore, there was still something disconcerting about being out in the Empty for too long, even now with the immediate area’s aether rebalanced towards something more natural. Like something was slowly draining him of energy, flaking off his hold on his corporeal form. It made his skin crawl.

Or maybe he was just tired.

As he approached the skyslipper to set down the gear inside it, he looked towards the backseat to make sure Ryne and Viana were all right. 

Except, Ryne was nowhere in sight. Confusion jolted through his mind, with the reflexive fear he’d fostered over the three years they’d spent being pursued by Eulmore’s forces following hot on its heels.

But before he had time to do much more than register the feeling, it vanished and a warm fondness bloomed in its stead as he paused to take in the sight. Viana was deep asleep, expression finally relaxed and void of pain, her chest rising and falling slowly with each shallow breath. In her lap, the top of a head with familiar red hair poked out from beneath the blankets, nearly obscured due to how she had one arm protectively draped over Ryne’s sleeping form.

His breath rushed out of his lungs in a deep exhale, and with it, the turmoil of dark emotions in his heart scattered like dust. He was used to close shaves but this… this had been a bit too close for comfort. Silently, he offered a prayer of thanks to the Twelve, whether they could hear him or not in this world.

They were both safe and alive. He hadn’t lost them.

Quietly, Thancred climbed into the skyslipper and deposited the items he carried on the floor, to the side where they wouldn’t be in the way. Despite his logical side urging him to the contrary, he leaned down over Viana and pressed a light kiss to her cheek.

“What’s..? Thancred?” she murmured, her voice coming out rough and weary, while turning her head towards him enough that their noses bumped together in the process.

A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “We’ve nearly packed up and will be heading back soon,” he said quietly as to not wake Ryne. “You still okay? Need anything?”

“Mhm,” she replied with a small nod while drowsily blinking up at him. “Just fine. So’s Ryne. She fell asleep pretty quickly. Don't need anything.”

Cradling her jaw, he brushed another kiss to her lips, relieved that her skin no longer felt as cold to the touch as though she’d just walked in from a blizzard. Viana made a soft, pleased noise in turn, the sound so familiar to him by now that he felt his chest grow tight with affection.

“Do you feel better?” she asked quietly.

With a quiet sigh, he rested his forehead against hers and let his hand drop to gently touch the top of Ryne’s head. “Yes, I do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My half formed "I don't know if this is compliant with the lore" headcanon is that she tried to force a samurai LB3 at the end of the fight, which the gunblade and gunbreaker gear isn't really suited for, resulting in something highly in-efficent and more a brute force expulsion of aether than a proper execution of that technique. >_>
> 
> Anyway, I felt like Ryne's confidence would be a little shaken after that whole affair and wanted to write something with it.


	21. Until the morrow (SHB, MSQ 77, Thancred/WoL)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well I want to call this done so done it is. :|
> 
> Follows on the heel of chapter 8 and 10 that go over the uh, whole Crossroads questline, but I don't thiiiiink it's required to read?
> 
> I really despise endings. English isn't my first language so mistakes have definitively slipped me by and you're welcome to point them out!

Thancred stared up into the top of the old bunk bed. In the dark, he could clearly hear the sounds of Urianger and Alphinaud’s slow and even breathing.

A vague, nonsensical feeling of envy stirred in his chest. Sighing, he twisted onto his side, pulling the covers closer around himself. The hasty movement made his muscles ache, battered and bruised as he still felt after all the fighting. Really, after a day so long and exhausting as the one they’d had, he should be dead to the world as well.

Try as he might tho, sleep would not come to him. His thoughts kept twisting and turning, picking over the events of the day, regret like a black void in his as each one inevitably made his thoughts loop back to another memory - of things he had not said when he should have, how he could now see how keeping Ryne at arm’s length had hurt her so deeply, and picking over each and every moment of the past few weeks, years, vowing to do better, to _be_ better for her sake.

But he wouldn’t be to any good use on the morrow if he didn’t get some rest.

“Seven Hells…” Despite that his gruff whisper was muffled against the thin pillow it sounded so loud in the quiet room. Try as he might, even when resorting to old meditation techniques, the uncomfortable energy that simmered and crawled right beneath his skin just wouldn’t go away, leaving him twisting and turning in search for a comfortable sleeping position.

Finally, with a twinge of annoyance at himself, Thancred threw aside the covers and rolled out of bed. Maybe a walk would let him relax. The old worn floorboards shifted beneath his sock clad feet as he silently made his way to the door with his boots in hand, yet neither of his companions thankfully stirred from their slumber.

When he closed the door behind him and the stillness of the dark corridor enveloped him, Thancred let out his breath in a slow exhale and quickly pulled on his boots.

Now that he was fully awake and resigned to contemplating the past day, that familiar, painful ache in his heart that had been his constant companion for so many years stirred. Minfilia truly was gone now - at last freed from her long vigil over this world and allowed to rest. A part of him wished he could have seen her one more time, heard her calm melodic voice for the last time... That he could have told her those things he should have so long ago, and been allowed to say his farewells to her, to assure her he’d look after Ryne and the rest of their friends.

Automatically, his steps carried him to the next door, where he paused and let his fingertips settle against the rough wood, as though he could sense the rest of their group sleeping beyond it.

Well, Minfilia was not entirely gone - part of her did live on in Ryne. A faint smile curled the corner of his mouth. The events of the day had clearly taken their toll on her, yet she’d put on such a brave face right until they arrived back here to Twine, unwilling to admit to her fatigue until everyone else had been yawning widely.

It was a very strange and confusing mix of feelings but despite his restless mind, he felt… somehow more at ease than he had in a long time. Like he finally could see the hints of a clearer path ahead of himself, no longer obscured by the darkness of his mourning and sense of failure, that there was no longer an old intangible weight bearing down on his chest and shoulders.

Shaking his head, Thancred silently stalked further down the corridor of the former mine workers’ quarters, towards the door out to the balcony. He needed some fresh air, to let his thoughts settle until they no longer twisted and turned in whichever direction they pleased. If they didn’t linger on the past, it they trailed forward - to the battles ahead, the things he’d need to speak of with Ryne so he could properly clear the air between them, the old regrets that still clung to his conscience that he felt he needed to make up for, the lingering hypervigilance against Eulmore’s pursuit of them, of Viana and the sudden change to their relationship after so many years…

A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth at the pleasant memory of kissing her, still so fresh that he could almost still feel her lips against his. If he didn’t know better, he’d think it had all been a pleasant dream, and that he’d wake up at any moment with Urianger and Y’shtola hovering above him as they tended to his wounds.

Wouldn’t be the first time his dreams elected to taunt him with what he thought was beyond him. He pushed open the door, the refreshing cold night air rushing into his lungs and immediately nipping at his skin laid bare by his pushed up sleeves. The glow of a lantern took him by surprise, as did the figure leaning against the banister. Thancred stopped dead in his tracks, just as the very person he’d been thinking of whipped around, her body language tense and ready. 

Even though they both immediately visibly relaxed, the air was at once thick with tension as they stared at each other. They hadn’t been afforded any time to speak in private, not with their friends around, everyone utterly exhausted after the day’s events, and the multitude of questions the inhabitants of Twine had had upon their return.

The surreal sensation tugged at him once more. For over five years he’d clung to memories of quiet moments he’d spent in her company, missing their comfortable companionship, worrying about what was happening on the Source, his heart yearning to be by her side once more - all while trying to force himself to cut off those stubborn feelings that had blossomed from that friendship. He’d been so certain that it’d been for the best not to act on them, that if he did not, she’d let go of whatever she thought she might feel and move on to someone more deserving of her affections.

Someone who was more trustworthy than he.

And yet, there in the soft lantern light, he saw the undeniable warmth in her gaze as she looked at him. Clearing his throat, Thancred offered her a small, apologetic smile. “Pardon me, I didn’t know the balcony was occupied.”

Viana huffed out a quiet laugh, her smile earnest if a tad tired. “Fret not, I believe there’s enough room for the both of us,” she replied quietly while shrugging one shoulder. The blanket she had wrapped around herself, already hanging precariously after her sudden motion when he’d startled her, slipped a little further off that shoulder. Instantly, Thancred felt an itch in his fingers to readjust it, to pull her close once more - to feel her lips against his again and soak in the warmth of her leaning against him without the hard press of their respective armours in the way.

An unfamiliar nervous tingle sparked in his stomach as he carefully nudged shut the door behind him. Hells, he’d yanked her into that first kiss out of fear and adrenaline - a leap of faith, before he lost his nerve and accepted the easy out she had given him of what her accidental confession could entail, to let him just carry on as he had without confronting what lay between them - but he wasn’t about to act quite so impulsive now. 

With slow, measured steps he closed the distance between, giving him time to observe her. Viana leaned against the banister, despite the uncertain energy to her pose looking more at ease in his presence than he could recall for… well, ever since they’d been reunited in this dying world. It no longer felt like there was a vast expanse between them - one he knew had mainly been of his own doing, holding her at arm’s length, until it had reached that breaking point in Twine.

“Shouldn’t you be asleep?” he asked.

She raised an eyebrow at him, the teasing glint in her eyes so painfully familiar from years past, when they had both been standing on the Source. “I could ask you the same thing.”

Thancred couldn’t help but huff out a quiet laugh. This felt familiar. _Comforting_. Perhaps grabbing her around the waist to keep her from leaving had been less a leap of faith off a steep cliff with a long drop and more a leap to join her on her side of the rift between them.

Perhaps that was why he felt so uncertain in this moment, his footing not yet stable on this new ground he’d suddenly found himself on.

Thancred leaned against the banister, keeping a small if unassuming distance between them, and shrugged while staring out across the moonlit landscape. “Hard to shake the feeling that Eulmore will be snapping at our heels any moment now,” he replied.

“I think we’re safe for now,” Viana hummed and turned to rest her elbows on the railing. “The loss of Ran’jit is sure to upset the chain of command for a little while, maybe even rattle morale a bit. Suspect we’ll be bringing the fighting to them, if we wish to reach the Kholusia lightwarden...”

“The sooner the better,” he replied. “Vauthry has a lot to answer for.” It was hard to keep the grim tone out of his voice. For years he’d harboured anger towards the city for locking away Ryne in a dark cell, far below the sea level. While striking down Ran’jit for good eased some of it, he was not the sole person responsible for the treatment of her. And three years were not enough to wipe away the memories of the weeks he spent infiltrating the city, of the debauched acts of hedonism and heartless cruelty that he’d witnessed while slinking from shadow to shadow, seeking a way down to the gaol.

The remnants of his anger from earlier in the day stirred at the back of his mind, but a warm touch to the bare skin of his arm drew him back to the present.

It was a small, hesitant touch - just the back of Viana’s fingers pressed against his arm, thumb brushing over his wrist - but he felt it as surely as the comforting heat of a fire on a cold day. “Did you have a chance to speak with Ryne yet?” she asked softly.

Thancred cast a glance at her, and shook his head. “Only a little. She was so tired that I said we’d speak further once we’re back in the Crystarium.”

She made a quiet sound of understanding, and much to his regret she withdrew her hand. After a moment of hesitation, he reached back out for it, sliding his fingers along the inside of her wrist in a silent question. Something in his stomach twisted, a nervous jolt of energy he was unfamiliar with, when she immediately opened her hand so he could loosely entwine his fingers with hers.

They stood in silence for a moment, with only the muted sounds from the other side of the small town where the miners were celebrating the night’s return as their company. Her hand was warm against his, and he found himself relishing in the small, innocent contact.

Exhaling slowly, Thancred rubbed his thumb against her hand. How many times hadn’t he seduced and tempted men and women, confident that his easy smile and grandiose compliments would win their favour - be it to coax information out of them or merely for a night of simple pleasure. Those grand words had never worked on her. But, where Y’shtola had always had a sharp, dismissive remark at hand, Viana had thrown his words back at him with an amused roll of her eyes, her teasing retorts just as void of sincere intent as his.

As memories of trading jabs and barbs with her, faded by the many years that had passed, played in his mind, an awareness crept up on him of his every touch and word that quickly grew into a nagging worry that any gesture of his now would be mistaken as disingenuous.

“Hey… something wrong?”

Wetting his lips, Thancred kept his eyes on the far horizon. “Forgive me,” he drawled with a self deprecating lilt to his tone, “I used to be good at… all of this.”

Viana was quiet for a moment, before the warm weight of her upper arm settled against his as she leaned against him. It prompted him to look up to see her give him a reassuring, if nervous, smile. “It’s okay Thancred, I don’t have any expectations.”

By reflex, he raised an eyebrow, a joking remark right at the tip of his tongue, but before he had a chance to speak her eyes grew wide and she jerked upright, yanking her hand out of his loose grip in the process.

“I mean - Hells, that came out wrong,” she rushed to explain as a deep blush coloured her cheeks. “I’m sorry, that wasn’t how - It’s not that I think you’ll-” Embarrassment flitted across her features and she sharply averted her gaze, turning her head away from him with a frustrated sound.

Thancred blinked, caught a little off-guard at seeing such a flustered reaction from her, but then gave her a lopsided smile. With a fond laugh under his breath, he felt some of his own worries ebb away. Turning his body towards her, he pulled up the blanket that barely clung to her arm so it rested more securely over her shoulder, then let his hand settle at the small of her back. “Viana, relax.”

A couple of seconds passed before she exhaled slowly, her shoulders slumping a little when she turned to mirror his pose, leaning on one elbow against the banister, gaze downcast and an uncertain frown on her face. One of her fingers tapped against the banister in a nervous manner before she reached out and took his hand between hers.

“What I meant is that I have no experience with these sorts of relationships either,” she finally said, her tone even and measured, like she’d thought each word over. The feeling of her trailing slow, random patterns over his palm that left a tingling sensation in their wake, but he kept still, his other hand having fallen to rest at her hip. A look of weary amusement flittered across her features, “_Casual encounters_, yes, though those never seemed to be particularly satisfactory.” Her fingers stilled, and she just held his hand between hers, enveloping it in her warm grasp. “But there was never that… _trust_, to let someone close for something more long-lasting.”

The weight of her words settled in his chest. Swallowing thickly, Thancred curled his fingers around her hand and raised it so he could brush a kiss to the back of her fingers. Wherever this between them went, for however long she wanted him by her side, he’d rather the gods struck him down on the spot than ever risk hurting her. “I suppose we’ll just have to learn together then,” he rasped out.

Viana laughed quietly under her breath as she moved to cup his jaw with her free hand. “I’m willing to,” she replied gently. A warm sense of contentment swelled up in his entire body when she lowered her head to rest her brow against his - there were no urgent tasks to see at this moment, no need to do anything to rush things. Humming, he slipped his hand beneath the blanket to wrap his arm around her waist, relishing in the warmth radiating off her through her thin shirt. Slowly, he nuzzled his nose against hers, soaking in the moment, before capturing her lips in a tender, lingering kiss. There'd been so many times that his traitorous dreams had fed him figments and shards of what it’d be like to kiss her, to hold her close, that part of him still reeled at the knowledge that he was welcome to do so now.

He could feel her smile against his lips, her thumb brushing over his cheekbone while her other hand slipped out of his grasp to settle on his shoulder. With a dull thud, the blanket fell to the floor, but she made no move to break away from him. The kiss melted into another, then one more. A shiver that had nothing to do with the cold night air rolled down his spine, and he subconsciously tensed his fingers, pressing them into her back, his other light on her hip. After all these years without much physical contact, his entire body sang with satisfaction at feeling her body settle against his - not accidental brushes while they sparred or went about their daily business, but comfortably leaning her entire frame against him. When they finally broke apart, the stillness of the night settled around them, and Viana moved her arms to rest around his shoulders.

It took all he had to suppress a shudder as he pressed his nose against the crook of her neck, his thoughts fuzzy and disoriented, merely relishing in having her close, of being enveloped in her embrace, warmth and scent. If only he could stay like this with her for many more hours, just holding her and being held in turn.

“This is nice,” she finally whispered.

Thancred chuckled and gave her hip a small squeeze. “Glad to hear I am not too out of practise after all these years.”

Viana laughed under her breath, but made no move to break the embrace, not even when he a few moments later felt her shiver.

As if to remind him of where they were, the cold night air nipped at his skin, and he realised she was in just a short sleeved shirt. Concern stirred him to turn his head and press a kiss to her neck. “Do you want to head back inside?”

Immediately, she leaned back from him, her expression apologetic. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to keep you from your sleep.”

With a low laugh from deep in his chest, Thancred shook his head and rubbed his thumbs against her waist. “You’re not, darling.” Then he leaned down, picking up the blanket from the worn out timber floor. When he straightened back up, he slipped his hand into hers and guided her over to the simple bench that was pushed up against the wall, the lantern perched on one end of it. “I’m not opposed to staying out here for a little while with you, ” he explained with, what he hoped, was a charming smile. Twelve, he felt so rusty.

There was an amused, affectionate glint in her eye as she accepted his invitation, and they settled down together, the blanket large enough to wrap around both of them.

“Comfortable?” he asked.

“Mhm,” she replied, just as her hand found his beneath the blanket and laced her fingers with his.

“Good,” he whispered, squeezing her hand. Despite the nervous simmering energy that lingered in his stomach, in the end it felt so… easy, knowing that his touches were welcome. No pretenses were needed, no sugar coated words to vye for her good graces or that game of measured and careful touches to tempt and seduce. Just the slow, timid return of the companionship he had missed so dearly since he’d been torn to this world.

He knew her. And for all his faults, she had accepted him, _chosen_ him.

As they sat there, shoulders pressed together, quietly speaking about things that did not pertain to the labours that lay ahead of them, while staring up at the stars twinkling so far above, he felt himself relax, a small smile playing on his lips. There were other, practical things they would need to speak of - of their responsibilities as Scions, their pasts, and experiences - but those could wait for a later time.

After all these years, he could let himself just enjoy this small moment, as it were. Duty would call soon enough for both of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *big shrug emoji* :D


End file.
